


Demon Days

by LuciferIsSatan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Former request, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Humor, Mild Language, Mpreg, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:44:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1736780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuciferIsSatan/pseuds/LuciferIsSatan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How the hell am I supposed to take care of a pregnant demon?" Bobby announced, face contorted in confusion. "There isn't a goddamn book on this, is there?"- Crobby (Bobby/Crowley), MPreg (Prompt.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt given to me forever ago that's been done forever, and originally on my FF.Net account. I thought it was worth putting up here-- So I fixed little things here and there, and it's super long but whatever. I tried splitting it up in different sections because on FF.Net it was all just one long Fanfiction.
> 
> Not the exact same from the other version; In my opinion this is better, by far.
> 
> I hope you enjoy. ^^

There is no subtle way to tell someone they don't belong in one place from another, and it's never easy explaining to someone that they're wrong. No, they more often than not become offended, and then what is there to do? It's hard enough as it is trying to explain yourself, and trying to get them to understand; but there are times, in everyone's life, where they must meet someone ' _More stubborn than I._ '

How could he ever expect them to understand? Sam he could understand, the logic past his thick skull, the utter shit he's been through recently, he could understand his resentment against the entire demonic population. Hell, every hunter he could understand their hesitance; Dean was no exception. Yeah, Bobby expected an outburst from him, he would have been concerned if the hunter _didn't_ scream at him; but this?

Bobby shouldn't have expected anything better, honestly, he shouldn't have. Telling his boys, hunters he saw as his sons, that he was in a relationship of sorts with a demon, well they hadn't reacted as badly as they did when they found out that it was the King of the Crossroads. Bobby was prepared for screaming, he was prepared for a fight, threats, and just about anything. Hell, he was prepared for damn near _everything_ ; he wasn't, however, prepared for that mute, blank expression that Dean was supporting, his judging nearly impassive facade he was wearing like a protective mask.

Bobby wasn't sure how much more he could take of it.

He almost wanted Dean to just spit these nasty remarks, he wanted him to treat him less than a person, he wanted a reaction. But the mans unwavering gaze made the elder hunter sit there in such uncomfortable silence, the tension just pouring off the the elder Winchester brother was so thick it could of been sliced through, and put on a plate for buttering bread. The disappointment in his eyes was tearing him apart and killing him.

Sam was talking, he was saying things along the lines of ' _are you sure of this?_ ' or 'Bobby, if this is part of some deal, we can get you out of this-' and ' _I think you're making a mistake._ '

Castiel hadn't said a word this entire time, and to be honest, Bobby was grateful about this. Cas had never been a judging character, he was this force that helped keep his head on straight, if he wasn't acting like a total idjit sometimes. His face was somewhat impassive, but there was no resentment behind his emotional, expressive eyes. The scene in itself before the elder hunter was a one-sided conversation, and plentiful stares, eventually Dean couldn't even be in the same room, roughly pulling himself from the couch, leaving. Castiel had looked after him, and Bobby gave him the signal that he was free to go after him; he did so without hesitation.

Sam paused in his ranting, watching them leave, before running a weary hand over his face. "Bobby-"

"Sam, stop." He hadn't intended his voice to be so hard, or sound as emotionally drained as it was. A hand lifting up his hat, quickly pulling back his short hair before placing it back on his thinning head. "I've heard enough."

Crowley hadn't picked a more perfect moment to be in away on business than now, although Bobby would have loved to have had some sort of support on his end.

"Bobby, please." Sam persisted, standing from his seat on the couch, "You can't do this-"

"You seem to forget that I'm a full grown man, and I can do damn well with what I so please with my love life." He growled, turning away from Sam to face his desk, an idle hand moved over some of the seams of a few open books, sprawled out on his desk top. The older man let off a shattered puff of frustration burst passed his lips, a rough hand rubbing over his weary face. "Sam," He sighed, "You may not accept it, but it won't change a damn thing."

Sam looked like he was about to interrupt, but Bobby held up a hand to stop him. "Let me finish." He glanced over at the tall brunette, and hated seeing the strong concern, and helplessness sprawled over his face. "Now I know you don't like these damn chick-flick moments; well neither do I, but were both gonna have to suck it up for a moment."

The man looked resigned, but nodded anyhow, making it a point to keep his mouth shut. Bobby took that as a good sign, and continued to talk. "Even if the demon's here, I want you to know that him bein' around ain't gonna cloud my judgement, and he sure as hell ain't got me in another deal. I may be old but I ain't an idjit; and I sure as hell wasn't born yesterday." Sam quirked a small smile, but stayed quite. "I'm always gonna be there for you and your impossible brother, I've supported you boy's through thick and thin, and haven't asked for more than your support as well." He frowned, "I can take care of myself, I don't need you idjits watchin' out for me."

"Noted," Sam gave a small smile, although the concern was still evident in his eyes, "I just worry about you Bobby, alone here all the time. Now I know you're with Crowley-"

"And I haven't been happier," The older hunter intervened, "He ain't that bad once you get to know'em."

"Bobby-"

" _Sam._ " Bobby looked at him, almost desperately, wanting him to understand. "You may not like it. Hell- You can hate and resent me for it-"

"I could never hate you-"

" _-But,_ " Bobby put strong emphasis, "You and Dean are just going to have to get used to'em."

Sam was quiet a moment, before a puff of air escaped his lips. "You know I trust you, I trust you with my life; with Deans-" He made a gesture towards the door, "-With Cas'. Bobby, you're like a dad to me." He paused, "I'm just.. So--" Sam paused, trying to find the right words. " _terrified_ that something's going to happen. That Crowley's going to have a fit, and Dean and I won't be able to save you."

"I'm getting old, kid." Both hands moved over his face once again, an old habit, the small of his back made contact with the edge of his desk. "Getting too old for hunting, for feeling scared, for _this._ " He made an exasperated gesture with his arms. "And I know Crowley knows this too. Sammy, I'm getting old, I've been so alone since my last wife, and I can't do this on my own anymore-"

"You have me and Dean-"

"You're gone all the goddamn time!" Bobby shouted, taking the younger slightly aback, "I'm here all by myself all the _goddamn_ time, and I'm so _sick'n tired_ of being so _goddamn alone_ all the time!" Throwing his hands around in uncertain yet sure motions, exasperated and worn down. "I have _nobody_ to look after me once the day is out." The older hunter seemed to deflate the more he spoke, "You boys have each other, you have _Cas_ , a goddamn _Angel of the Lord_ , as your guardian angel! Who do I have? A bottle of Whiskey and my books!" Bobby huffed, "My days, they-- they're numbered--" His voice was cutting off, shutting down, "and I'm just _so_ tired of spending them alone."

The outburst caught them both utterly off-guard, and for once, Sam was speechless. "Look," Bobby breathed, tone softer, "When Crowley's around.. I don't feel this way," Bobby could hear Dean somewhere in the back of his mind muttering about chick-flick moments, "-but I just-- I finally have someone who doesn't expect the world outta me, he doesn't _expect_ anything. It's..-" He spun his hand idly, looking everywhere but at the hunter across from him. "-relieving."

They were silent, for what seemed like a lifetime, before Sam stepped forward. His voice soft, so quiet that Bobby was surprised he could even hear it. "Is he good to you?"

"He don't make me feel useless," Bobby muttered under his breath, arms dropping to his sides. "Yeah, I guess."

He hadn't expected the swooping hug he received, returning it halfheartedly, before the taller man pulled away. Bobby raised a questioning brow at him, but Sam gave him a sympathetic, if not a somewhat still blatantly concerned, smile. "If something happens-"

"It won't." Bobby gave him a small smile, "Now git'-- I've got to work, and you need to go catch a few Leviathans."

A hand patted his shoulder, "We'll call you, don't hesitate to do the same."

"What about Dean?" The inevitable question, and Sam just gave him a small quieted shrug.

"He'll come around, and Cas'll keep an eye out." That wasn't entirely what Bobby wanted to hear, but he couldn't exactly ask for more. Sam started to walk off, and Bobby felt the need to say 'Thanks' but that wasn't like him, so he didn't, muttering 'idjit' under his breath, and receiving a small chuckle, before listening to the door open and slam shut. Leaving the hunter alone once again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the sex. I should have them all posted by today, but I might end up getting the last one [or few] up tomorrow. It takes a great deal of time to make the chapters flow a lot better than the original.

The day had been spent in relative silence after his boys left. Bobby had received several calls on others behalf, looking up new information about some strange demonic tribe off in West Virginia, as well as a load of different side cases, tracking notes, and comparing results. It would be an exaggerated understatement to say he wasn't mentally exhausted from all this thought exertion. He ran his rough hands over his face, rubbing against his weary cheeks before dropping the tired appendages to his lap, closing his eyes and leaning against the back of his chair, a tired puff of air blew passed his lips.

"Awe, no kiss goodnight?" The voice tsked, startling the hunter to full awareness, "Robert, darling, I must say I'm disappointed." Eyes shooting open from surprise, a surge of panic shooting up his spine; reaching blindly for a weapon. However, the expression quickly fell before being replaced by irritation, arms dropping mid reach. "I would have thought I meant more to you than that." The demons voice dripped in light sarcasm, tongue brushing against the back of his teeth.

The demon was standing in the center of the room, a smirk ever-present on his unconventionally attractive face, arms crossed elegantly across his black clad torso. Bobby rolled his eyes, before a gruff smile passed over his lips, arms spreading in mock acceptance, "C'mere ya idjit." Crowley broke into a splendid, if not slightly cocky grin, walking over in long strides as he rounded the desk, sliding himself onto the older hunters lap, knee's on either side of the hunters hips; his head moved forward and planted a chaste lingering kiss onto the mans lips, feeling the hunters harms wrap around his hips, locking.

Crowley broke off the kiss, resting his hands on either side of the mans face, "So," Crowley began, pressing his lips against the hunters again, nipping his lower lip, "how'd the talk go with Tweedledee and Tweedledum?" The demon muttered, pressing his forehead against Bobby's; an action unusually intimate and typically reserved for post-bliss, but the hunter didn't question it, nor did he answer.

"That bad, eh?" Crowley raised a brow, receiving a grunt in response. "Come now, darling, feathers was there to keep the scene in check, right?"

"He was just.. so quiet."

"Who?"

"Dean." Bobby frowned, "I kinda wanted him to scream," The hunter chewed the inside of his lip, "You know, do _something._ "

"Now, now Robert," The demons nose brushed against the humans, eyes fluttering a moment as he concentrated on the action. "It's alright," Crowley attempted to reassure. "I'm sure the entire ordeal will blow over eventually, love. You can't keep those boys away from you, let alone stay mad at you."

"You don't know Dean."

"You underestimate me." Crowley smiled, and for the first time, strangely enough, Bobby noticed this strong scent emanating from the demon, like some new sort of cologne or something. It was nearly intoxicating, not having realized how deeply he was breathing it in. Bobby blinked up at the demon, confused, but not exactly put off.

"What'd you spray yourself with, huh?" Bobby muttered, feeling the demons lips brush against his own, eyes growing droopy. "Some demon brand perfume?"

"Not at all." The Crossroad king responded, tongue darting outward and dragging against the hunters lower lip, "Why would I spray myself when my natural musk is so much better?"

Bobby didn't believe him for a second, something about him smelled different, a bitter sweet mixture, that had the hunter all but panting, damn near growling as his breath mingled with the demons, who, in retrospect, didn't smirk at the mans obvious eagerness like he normally would. Hips pressing forward; Crowley's purred as the arms locked around his hips pulling him closer, flushing his body against the others; he actually _purred_. A thick deep accented vibration emanating from the demon's throat, that sounded so elegant and gruff at the same time, _needy_.

Bobby felt the hardened length between the demons legs press against his belly, hot and bothered and needy as an arm loosened itself from around the demons waist and moved to grasp the mans inner thigh, a sharp intake of breath and the demon rutted against the hand. " _Bobby._ " The demon hissed, his voice like a cave that went on for miles, groaning against the mans lips, and reverberating on his tongue.

The hunter hadn't seen his Crossroads king act so eager before, he's usually the one who pushes Bobby into the begging mess, not the other way around. The hands digging onto the side of the hunters face, moved, almost desperately, fingers digging against the skin and downward on the hunters neck, dropping to the mans shoulders and over his torso, before quickly snapping down to the hunters pant buckle. The motions were quick and snappy, unintentionally seductive in a near unconventional way and Bobby couldn't help but groan, feeling those soft deft hands digging at the front of his jeans, yanking at the button, and pulling down the zipper. Fighting back a moan when the familiar warm heated hand grasped at his half-erect member, swiftly pulling it out of his restraints.

Hands were everywhere at once, strong but softer hands were underneath flannel, deft fingers running through dark fuzz around the hunters waistline, above his groin, and over his chest, while rougher more profound hands dug around the demons waist, pulling away the expensive clothing, dropping them, yanking them down to the man's knee's. Crowley shifted, allowing the clothing to be pulled off completely, kicking them off his ankles. Bobby tore open the mans jacket, and for once didn't hear a complaint about goddamn expensive the clothes were, or whatever brand they were, as if it would make a different to the hunter. Bobby felt as though something was off with the demon, Crowley wasn't saying anything snarky, hadn't bickered when he got here or suggested a drink. He just _jumped_ right into it, which wasn't unpleasant, but just unusual.

"Somethin' on your mind?" Bobby chuckled at the demons eagerness, the smell intensifying exceptionally as his clothes began going missing, and Bobby felt downright intoxicated, mind fuzzy and driven; rough hands running over scarred skin. Crowley didn't respond, at least not in English, voice low and deeply accented, in some sort of hellish language that Bobby wasn't entirely fluent in. 

Hands tore at the buttons of his shirt, tearing the flannel wide open, the shirt hanging around the hunters shoulders and arms. Bobby barely registered the hot burning mouth latching onto his own, the slight vibrations coming from the demons mouth tingling against the hunters lips, who quickly dominated the kiss, forcing his tongue into the others wet cavern. Hips pressing harder against the humans, Bobby jerking his hips upward as his growing erection pressed against the demons inner thigh almost urgently.

Rough hands gripped around the base of the Crossroads kings legs, fingers moving upward from their position and forcing the mans legs somewhat further apart, pulling his body impossibly closer. Mouths nipping and biting, forcefully moving against one another, and pulling apart with an obscene pop. Crowley sliding his tongue around Bobby's scruffy jaw line, trailing heated yet sloppy kisses downward, reaching his neck and moving further onto his lovers collarbone. His tongue brushing past his teeth, nipping the crook of the hunters neck, licking away the wound and sucking the sliver of skin.

Bobby bit back any noises that might have slipped passed his lips, pulling the demon closer to his aching arousal, the demon barely registering the pressure until a hand squeezed at his rear, a deep sensual groan breaking past his throat, and reverberating in his lungs, and still Bobby could feel the vibrations from the mouth latched to his neck.

He gave a small signal, letting the demon know. He knew it wasn't necessary, Although he believed strongly in preparation, to which the Crossroad king assures is entirely unnecessary- due to the fact that he can heal himself anyhow. Bobby decided that if Crowley wasn't going to allow him to try, he might as well warm him before hand-- it was a consent thing, and even when he knew Crowley wasn't going to back out, he always gave him the chance to tell him _no_ or ask for him to go slow. Even though it was unnecessary, it always made Bobby feel better for not preparing him.

Crowley pressed his hips down further, feeling the tip of his lovers throbbing arousal against his puckered hole, hissing under his breath in hell-speak, clenching his hands around the hunter and feeling those delicious gruff hands grip his hips tight, before practically escorting him downward. Muffling his cry against the crook of the hunters neck, shifting his hips slightly at the feeling.

Bobby looked at the demon, face flushed, dark hair disheveled, and his deep bottomless eyes glazed over. The hunter really didn't want to know how he looked, and he knew he couldn't even compare himself to the way Crowley did every time they started; Blood rushing and pooling south when he heard, more or less _saw_ the demons mouth part in a near silent moan as his body worked its way downward, his lips swollen and pink, and fuck.

"Crowley," Bobby breathed out, hearing the slight hitch in the demons breathing, before it turned excruciatingly heavy. Bobby almost lost himself when the demon turned his hips in a circular motion, only squeezing his hands tighter around the mans waist, holding him firmly in place. Once he finally came back to himself, for the most part, he could hear the demons breathing coming out hard and deep, fingers snapping up into the hunters hair, pushing the mans hat clean off of his head.

The object clattered to the ground with a muffled _clump_ but was quickly forgotten when the Crossroads king lifted his hips and slammed them back down, both men moaning out in unison. The fingers in Bobby's hair tightened, as the demon braced himself, his thighs working away as he continued to impale himself on Bobby's throbbing arousal.

Bobby bucked forward slowly, deeply and fully but after a while his hips began to move almost frantically, the tight heat gripping at him into oblivion, shoving himself deeper and deeper, heavy eyes watching this elegant and heavily flushed creature on him, the way his face darkened, deep eyes blown up in dilation, muscles clenching themselves around the hunter. Nails dug into skin, scratching, heat, the movement, and broken noises were erupting from everywhere, and neither could tell who it was coming from.

Crowley thrust downward hard against the hunter, hips rutting and grinding in near desperate movements that felt deeply primal. Skin moving against the rough cloth of blue jeans, blunt nails dug at his scalp, and he wasn't sure whether or not he was in pain or ecstasy but he couldn't care less because everything felt so fucking good, and real, and everything was okay. Bobby's earlier stress was missing, his earlier guilt and the baggage he was carrying from his shoulders felt lifted with every movement the demon made, and for once the hunter just didn't care, and let himself fall into the bliss and pure heat that the Crossroads king was providing, and everything was alright, and he felt like himself again.

Crowley allowed a deep moan to vibrate through his chest, and everything was faster, and deeper, and sweeter, and _better_. His thighs moving against the hunter to the sound of drums that he would never hear, before soft wet swollen lips captured his own once again, muffling a strong moan as he climaxed onto their stomachs, the wet heat splashing against both men. Bobby could feel everything tighten impossibly around him, forcing him through to his own blissful release.

He moaned deeply into the demons mouth, their hips and thighs moving together, riding out the waves of their orgasm, before their bodies finally relaxed to a halt. Bobby barely registered time after that until he felt the demon crawl off of him, suddenly and abruptly feeling terribly cold below the waist, Crowley planting a chaste kiss on his lovers forehead.

"I must say," Crowley's voice sounded like coffee and cigarettes when he spoke, tilting his head slightly "that was an improvement." The demon offered lazily, a tired smirk on his pink tinted face, eyes droopy. Bobby rolled his eyes as he attempted to fix up his jeans, pulling them properly around his hips and stuffing himself back inside before buttoning up; tugging off his shirt, or what was left of it, he cleaned off his stomach as best as he could before tossing the thing to Crowley, who caught it effortlessly, arm scooping down and collecting his hat.

"I must say Robert," Crowley purred, taking the shirt in hand and wiped his bare form down as best he could, dropping it to the ground by his feet. Looking at the hunter with vigorous and nearly obscene smolder, tongue darting between his teeth as he looked his disheveled lover down, "I love it when you're shirtless."

"And I love it when you're not so goddamn noisy." The hunter halfheartedly grunted, pulling himself to his feet. Crowley scoffed, upturning his nose in mock offense.

"You know you love every noise I make." The demon purred, "Almost as much as I do."

"Egomaniac." Bobby chuckled, moving to the demon against his desk, before wrapping his bare arms around the mans own bare scarred skin.

"And you love every bloody minute of it." The demon smirked, draping his arms around the hunters neck and shoulders, pressing their foreheads together.

"Don't I know it."


	3. Chapter 3

Crowley would never understand the purpose of breaking a deal.

" _There's a reason we don't call our chips in early; consumer confidence. This isn't Wall Street. This is Hell! We have a little something called integrity. This gets out who'll deal with us? Nobody! Then where are we?!_ "

He had only one rule: make a deal, keep it.

Bloody Crossroad demons who can't even pick up the piece's once their done, having to look to the king to fix their own sodding messes and mistakes. It was aggravating, and he couldn't even begin to express his absolute disgust he felt when he found out about a certain Crossroads cutting their deals a little too slim. All their pieces were on the table for a reason, it's take it or leave it at that point; but they're avoiding the rules of what they were, unbinding people by these little ' _happy accidents_ ' it wouldn't do. Buy the ticket, take the ride: Simple as that.

He had to deal with such cases today, of all days, and for whatever reason he was loosing his temper far too quickly than he should have been. He's usually good at keeping his emotions in check, especially with dealing with such inferior demons. He's been irritable all day, and having to force his hand, he just barely killed off most of his loyalist and slaughtered a great deal of rouges within the hour. He was on the verge or crying and screaming all day, and he had no idea as to why that was and it made him want to rip his hair from his scalp, almost barely keeping himself from doing so.

To cut it short, his day had been complete and utter shit.

He felt worse than he's ever been, even compared to being thrown on the rack; he felt sick, light headed, not to mention terribly moody. He wondered vaguely if he'd been poisoned or not, but his body didn't seem to be shutting down, although he silently hoped it would. His head was pounding, and he honestly felt as if he'd double over any minute now. Like there was a clump in his throat and no amount of swallowing would push it down.

After a few unusually ungodly hours, he ended up sending a few of his best out and do his dirty work for the day. His mind wasn't thinking properly, and his judgement seemed terribly clouded over. He needed to get away from everyone before he ended up blowing up the entity of hell during one of his tantrums.

He had an image to uphold, and destroying hell wouldn't exactly look good for him.

Within moments, he flashed himself to the only place he knew he could possibly get himself help.

Bobby's.

"Hello boys."

Dean and Sam flipped themselves around, practically jumping at the sound of the demons voice. Sam gave a tiny and vaguely polite smile, while Dean downright glared in his general direction. Bobby looked up from the book his nose was buried into, nodding his head in mock acknowledgement on his arrival, while feathers over there tilted his head in confusion to the side. The tension in the air was thick, but it's typically like that when the Winchesters in the room. They could make a Kindergartner's birthday party uncomfortable three miles away by just looking in its general direction.

"What are you doing here?" Dean spat, his shoulders going tense and his jaw set.

"Here to see Bobby-"

"Well Bobby doesn't want to see you." The older Winchester snapped, before Sam elbowed his rib-cage with unnecessary rough force. Dean gave his brother an exasperated look, shoving him off, "The _hell_ was that for!"

"Shut up ya' idjit." Bobby called, eyebrows furrowed together, "What can I do for ya', Crowley?" He directed his question, pointedly ignoring the dirty look Dean shot him.

The Crossroads king lifted both of his eyebrows as if trying to remember, "Ah," He stated, walking past the two Winchesters, and up to the elder hunters desk. "I actually came for assistance."

There was a pause, to which the elder hunter raised his brow, urging the demon on. "On?"

Crowley shifted in his feet, suddenly very away of the eyes on him before he spoke, almost awkwardly, "Demon disease's."

"Don't tell me you got some damn STD." Dean growled, "If you infect Bobby-"

"Oh please," Crowley interrupted sarcastically, shooting the Winchester and vaguely disinterested and faintly offended look. "I can assure you that I can't contract STD's, sweetheart" The demon stated almost bitterly, elaborating. "Such transfers are only possible through humans, and if you've already forgotten, which I wouldn't be _nearly_ surprised, but I'm not a human." He gave the young hunter a sideways glance, before turning towards Bobby once again. He coughed, "There's uhm-- there's something, uh, _wrong_ with me-"

"Not surprised," Dean muttered, before Bobby threw his book at him.

"I told ya' to shut it." The elder hunter grunted, looking back at the Demon, "You were sayin'?"

"I was _saying_ ," he ground out the last word, "That I've been experiencing mild-" He really wished the Winchesters weren't here, he already felt awkward as hell as it was with just Bobby, he cleared his throat. "Uh, 'mood swings', among other things that are highly-- unnatural-" He was half expecting some crude remark about his entire existence being unnatural by the phallus of an older brother, but heard nothing, so he continued. "-I'm not exactly well versed on illnesses- Well, since I've never had one personally, and I must say I'm, uh-" Why was this so hard? His eyes darted between the faces of the hunters before glancing back at Bobby, "-concerned."

"So you came to me to find out what's wrong with ya?" Crowley nodded almost feebly.

"Right."

Bobby furrowed his brows together, "Couldn't you have gone to some sort of.. I don't know.. _Demon doctor_ for this sort of thing?"

"Yeah, because there are doctors in hell." Crowley replied sarcastically, and the elder hunter rolled his eyes, muttering _whatever_ under his breath.

"You've been feeling fatigued?" The soft yet gruff voice of the angel startled the demon king somewhat, turning to face feathers over on the other side of the room. Crowley hadn't mentioned anything about feeling fatigued, but the angel saw right through him.

"Yes?" He replied, nearly uncertainly, but turned away from his lovers desk to get a better view of the trench coated baby with wings. Castiel was watching him with squinted eyes, his bright blue spectrum looking through him as if he were a piece of transparent glass, head tilted delicately to the side. Crowley felt extremely bare under the others gaze, but he tried to make it seem as if he were unbothered by it.

"What is it Cas'?" Bobby asked, voice rough. An eyebrow raising as he watched the angel step forward and up to the subtly unnerved Crossroad's king. The angel didn't respond, but he seemed to see something that the others just couldn't.

"Anything else that is unusual?" He asked, his voice steady and controlled. Crowley felt a little uneasy under the angels intense stare, but didn't allow it to show on his face, before he slowly began to list the things that were abnormal- at least, as abnormal as things could get with a demon- his words failing him as Castiel reached his arm out to touch his abdomen, flinching away.

"What are you doing?" The demon demanded, but Castiel's arm snapped forward and grabbed his arm, holding him in place, a flash of panic crossing his face.

"Do not be alarmed," Castiel began slowly, squinting his eyes at the demon before dropping them to look at his abdomen. "it would be unwise to exert your emotions." The angel stated, a soft delicate hand reaching out and resting against the demons belly.

"Why exactly," Bobby poked his head around to get a better look at the Thursday angel, "would it be bad?"

Castiel didn't respond at first, seemingly transfixed on where is hand was resting, Crowley felt a distinct burning sensation where the fingers rested, and bit his tongue in order to contain a pained groan. It felt as if feathers was attempting to reach inside of him, without actually doing the process.

"ˈkæmbiən" Cas muttered under his breath, and Crowley gave him a defiant look.

"Alright feathers, the complexity of angel's joking will never cease to amaze me, but this is really not the ti-"

"I hadn't thought this possible," Castiel was ignoring the demons comment, and Crowley wasn't sure if the angel was just doing this to scare him, or just wasn't listening. "I hadn't expected this-"

"Expected _what_ Castiel?" Crowley urged, but was once again ignored, raising his voice subtly, "Quit joking around-"

"Cas' what is it?" Dean spoke up this time, his curiosity getting the better of him. Castiel turned to look at his friend, but his hand never left the demons middle. Crowley could feel his heart begin to beat faster in his chest as he felt the beginnings of a panic trying to devour him.

"ˈkæmbiən." Castiel answered, somewhat confused at the lack of response from the brothers, glancing over towards Bobby but found he was just as confused as the boys were. 

Dean raised his eyebrows, waving his hands slightly. "English Cas'."

"The closest thing to English would be a Cambion," Crowley could feel his heart speed up.

"Cas', please stop this joke, you're scaring me."

"Cambion? Now why the hell does that sound so damn familiar.." Bobby spoke.

Castiel opened his mouth, and Crowley could practically hear a bomb about to drop. He wanted to disappear because he knew exactly what the angel was going to say, and it utterly terrified him. "A Cambion is an offspring-" The looks Castiel received from that seemed to have him hesitate a moment before continuing on, "-of a demon and a human," He stated almost hesitantly, before his endless bright innocent blue eyes looked back at the demons paling face. "I'm right to assume that it is formal to bestow congratulations for the conceived. Yes?"

Everything in the room was deathly silent, and everyone seemed to be waiting for the bomb to go off. Crowley stared in utter horror as Castiel dropped his offending hand from his stomach, and lazily allowing it to drop to his side. The Crossroads demon took an involuntary step back, his back bumping against Bobby's desk, feet tripping over the edge, and he barely caught himself as his rear made rough contact with the floor. A broken noise fell past his lips as his mind and mouth tried to catch up with one another, and it felt as if the room was spinning.

His wide eyes darted downward, almost helplessly at his abdomen, opening his mouth, before closing it, and repeating the process, before he was finally able to catch a grip on his voice. "Y-you're _joking_ , right?"

"Yeah! What the _hell_ Cas!" Dean yelled, "You expect me to believe that Crowley is _pregnant_?" He emphasized his wording, lifting his brows expressively and disbelievingly, squinting his eyes at the angel. "How the hell is that even possible?" the older Winchester demanded.

"I had originally assumed it wasn't," Castiel responded, realizing his mistake for not confronting Crowley about this first. He shifted a moment, spinning a hand idly for a brief moment as he elaborated. "-seeing, of course, as an incubus and the succubus are incapable of reproduction. Not to mention that Crowley is neither, so this comes as a complete shock to me as well." The angel finished almost lamely, looking towards the boys, "But it has also come to my attention, from the aura surrounding the Cambion that the child was created during-" Castiel paused, looking for the term he wanted in modern English as to not confuse the humans any further. "-A kind of mating season if you will."

"Demons have mating seasons?" Sam questioned, stepping forward.

Crowley buried his face in his hands in embarrassment at the looks he received because of that little tid-bit of information. Dean seemed to be the only one who thought the entire ordeal was hilarious, and seemed to keep looking at Crowley as if he were amused that something went wrong with him.

"They are uncommon, but not unheard of." Castiel nodded, "They happen at complete random as well, which also takes the host off guard, and they more often than not will be unaware of it." The angel directed at Sam before he turned his attention back to Crowley. Who, in retrospect, was just drinking in the information just barely, his breathing uneven, and the entire time he thought about how he had just lost the only person he ever cared about. He couldn't wrap his mind around it, and the more he tried to reason, the more it seemed to make sense and the worse he felt.

Bobby's not going to want him anymore, _for the love of sin_ how could he? He's a male demon carrying a bloody _blasphemous_ baby! Bobby had made it very clear in the beginning that he never wanted any kids, having never believed it would have been safe given his profession, and something about not ending up like his father, and now one was being forced upon him. Crowley wasn't sure he could handle hearing Bobby 'disowning' him, he could even stomach the idea of Bobby just up and leaving him, the thought downright terrified the hell out of him. He didn't want a baby, and he didn't want to lose Bobby, he couldn't-

Crowley felt as if he could begin hyperventilating, and struggled to keep his breathing under control. The distress was evident on his face. Speaking of Bobby, the elder hunter hadn't said a word since Castiel's little revelation about the demon.

Crowley could hear the hunter suck in a sharp intake of breath, and Crowley closed his eyes in resignation. He was about to lose everything and he didn't doubt it for a moment, and in the same sense he didn't believe he could handle it.

"How the hell am I supposed to take care of a pregnant demon?" Bobby announced, face contorted in confusion. "There isn't a goddamn book on this, is there?"

Dean shook his head, and Sam snorted, Castiel shook his head as well, giving an almost human gesture of a shrug. And all Crowley could do is stare at them in disbelief. He mouthed the word _what_ but the word was caught in his throat and he couldn't speak. His shoulders were shaking, and he was literally striken with fear and confusion. What was going on? Why wasn't Bobby screaming at him?

The angel must have taken up on his speechlessness, for he held out a hand to help the demon back to his feet, Crowley looked at the hand as if it were a foriegn and dangerous object before carefully taking it in his own, carefully hoisted to his feet. Castiel's eyes seemingly peering into whatever soul he had, before a flash of disbelief crossed his own face.

"You don't believe you-" He began but was quickly cut off by Bobby, who stood to stand, making the demon flinch away from him, much to Bobby's surprise.

"Crowley-"

"I don't understand," The Crossroads demon gave them all odd looks, "Robert-" When the demons words began to fail him, Bobby seemed to get the message.

He reached out for his lover, but Crowley instantly started to retreat back into himself, ducking his head. Bobby moved forward when he realized the warning signs of a panic attack and quickly wrapped his arms around his lovers middle, the demon collapsed into the hold, breaking every shred of dignity, as panic and fear and so many other emotions that didn't have a name flooded through him, hands darting out and clutching almost desperately to the hunters back as he fell to his knees. Crowley tucked his head under the hunters chin, hands fisting the front of the hunters shirt as he tried to control his breathing.

Sam and Dean were frozen in their spots as the scene played out before them; they expected to see a lot of things, but this sure as hell wasn't on the list.

Crowley had experienced fear before, he's experienced pain, rage, discomfort, helplessness, even worse than what he was experiencing now. He hadn't the single incentive with what was wrong with him, or what he was feeling, drifting in unfamiliar ground.

Castiel, knew, of course. Demon hormones are 10 times that of a human being's, and one could imagine what kind were going through their tormented bodies during a pregnancy. A male demon none the less. The angels eyes darted to the Winchesters, to which one looked deeply sympathetic, while the other looked mildly uncomfortable, but less resentful than he had before. Cas' knew it wasn't much, but it was something.

Crowley began speaking, but once again, it wasn't in English, although the Crossroads king didn't seem to notice.

"How far along is he?" Dean muttered to Cas' who turned his head in the direction of the demon clutching to the hunter.

"I would say about a week or so, perhaps longer," Castiel shrugged, chewing his lower lip in thought, tilting his head and squinting his eyes, "it's not easy to tell with demons, not to mention that their growth rate of the Cambion inside of a demon womb. It could be accelerated, or slowed."

"Accelerated." Bobby stated, looking up from the floor. He coughed a moment, running his hand up and down the demons back in a warm and comforting manor, trying to calm him, "You say it's a week along? It's been two days since-" He waved his hand, receiving an obscene face from Dean. "You know."

"I don't want to know."

"Dean." Sam elbowed his brother once again; Sam looked ready to ask something, stopping as if he'd decided against it, but went ahead and said it, turning to look at Bobby. "So is he," He shrugged, "You know, gonna stick around?"

"He's family now," Bobby muttered, "He don't belong nowhere else."


	4. Chapter 4

Weeks seemed to pass quickly, but the first few were the hardest. Crowley still having the work of Hell on his shoulders, having gained an eating habit, and suddenly in need of rest. The dramatic mood swings, and violent vomiting, not to mention that he had gained a fever of sorts, frequent fits of sickness, and terribly light headed. And sometimes he would vaguely wonder why Bobby bothered sticking around.

His stomach was slowly but surely growing, although it was supposed to be accelerated, it barely seemed that way.

Bobby had suggested that the Crossroads demon stay the nights, at least until the baby is out, and the demon found his way into the hunters bed each and every night thereafter. It was strange, at first, sleeping in the same bed as Bobby- He'd always come after a long day, they'd fuck, and then he'd leave. He rarely gave into the pleasure of just being in the mans company after it was all over with, but he couldn't bring himself to complain when he felt the mans strong arms wrap around him each and every night, in a silent but protecting embrace, letting him know he had no plans of leaving him any time soon.

One day, Crowley was 'home' early, if that was what you could call this place, resting in the bed him and Bobby shared. He stripped out of his formal suit, which was slowly but surely growing too tight around him, and soon he's going to have to train someone to take his spot for the time being, before destroying them when he gets back. He can't allow any competition, now can he?

Crowley hated wearing anything but his suit, but he found that he enjoyed wearing sweats and a T-Shirt when he needed to gain some significance of rest. He simply snapped his fingers and his attire changed, before having climbed onto the bed earlier.

Now, he was just sitting there, slightly over sized shirt pulled above his abdomen, his hands resting on the enlarging bump purging from his belly. It wasn't big enough yet to be seriously noticeable, but it could be spotted if someone was looking for it. He ran his hand over the skin, thinking of the demon seed growing inside of him, this child.

Unbeknownst to the Crossroads demon, the man responsible for his bulging belly was standing outside the cracked doorway, watching the man with heavy sweet eyes, not making himself known.

Bobby watched the demons eyes as they dragged over the skin, viewing quietly as the Crossroad king stroked the bulge of his belly, with a sad, almost thoughtful expression on his face; sometimes he'd see his demon do this, when he was sure no one was looking, or paying him any mind. This wasn't the first time he caught the man, and he doubted it would be his last. He would have let himself be known, but there was something about these moments when Crowley thinks he's alone; this barrier that just drops, and for once he allows himself to indulge himself to the tiny creature growing inside of him.

The hunter knows he's scared, Crowley may be good at lying, but Bobby can see through him. Crowley would deny it up and down, hell, even in pentagram formation saying that he was fine, and he could ' _handle the little tyke_.'

Bobby, on the other hand, knew otherwise. He could see it in his eyes, his unsure comments and motions, the way he would hesitate. There was a certain uneasiness that the normally cool and collected Crowley just couldn't hide. It was exceedingly-- _human_ , and maybe that was why it was just so easy to see. Or maybe Bobby know's Crowley better than he originally thought he did.

Dean and Sam come over every now and again, and although they'd never admit it, Bobby knew Crowley was beginning to grow on the boys. Castiel, on the other hand, has a deep fascination with the child, and is constantly checking in to make sure everything was going smoothly, to the point where Crowley just didn't flinch anymore when the angel would reach out and rest his cold hand on his belly. It was endearing to see, actually. Walking in on Cas' and Crowley with his lovers shirt pulled just above his abdomen, and Castiel on his knee's in front of him, hands pressed carefully over his stomach and scanning him ever so carefully. It was in those moments where the fear shows; it wasn't often, but for a fleeing moment, fear would cross his face, worry-- worried that something, this once, might actually be wrong.

Bobby opened the door, pushing it open softly before walking inside. Crowley noticed immediately that he wasn't alone _anymore_ ; not that he was to begin with, quickly covered his bulging stomach with his shirt, like he was embarrassed over the entire ordeal; Bobby could easily compare the reaction to a teenage boy caught in a compromising position watching a less than socially exceptional video in the privacy of his room. However, Bobby shot Crowley a look that spoke volumes on how ridiculous he thought Crowley was acting as he crawled onto their shared bed. Moved to where the demon was, whose back was pressed against the headboard. "Don't do that." He mumbled under his breath, hands reaching out and grabbing the edge of the shirt, before pulling it upward once again.

Crowley looked somewhat self-conscious, looking exposed and vulnerable under his lovers intense gaze; however, it was in these moments he'd never felt so safe. A warm hand reached out and touched his belly, fingers spread out slightly, before it rubbed softly around the flesh. An action far more intimate than it should be, and Crowley didn't even register the small, almost nonexistent smile his face was sporting.

Bobby leaned forward, placing a soft kiss right below the demons belly button. Crowley let off a pleased noise, it was soft, and almost inaudible, but Bobby caught it, smiling onto the skin, his gruff beard brushing against the males smoother surface.

Bobby wasn't one who enjoyed _moments_ too much, and tended to avoid them. If Dean could see him now, he'd be hounding him about 'Chick-flick' moments, but the elder hunter couldn't bring himself to care. He loved how the heated taunt skin moved with every breath the demon made, he loved the noises, and although this entire _parent_ thing was weird.. and, well-- just _off_ , to him. He'd practically raised those Winchester boys, he thinks he can take care of one little kid.

Well- _maybe_. The fact that it'll be half-demon might leave some ill-effects, but he'd figure it out. Hopefully.

The hunter brushed his lips against the skin again, a little lower than before, trailing his mouth against the warm flesh. He felt a careful hand thread its way under his hat, pushing it off and intertwining each digit into his thinning dark hair. Bobby looked up from where his head was ducked, and saw this- _softness_ \- in the demon's eyes. Crowley spread his legs to accommodate the hunters size as he slipped between them and planted a chaste kiss on the demons forehead.

His lips dragged down to peck the demons nose, before firmly planting themselves onto the mans lips. They broke apart, foreheads pressing against one another. Crowley mumbled something against him, but Bobby could barely register what he was saying.

"What?" He mumbled softly, before a kiss was pressed to his mouth, then another, then another, and another. The demon intertwined his fingers with the humans hair, but the demon didn't attempt to repeat what he said. They laid there, Bobby being mindful to the child resting between them, his child, _their_ child. They stayed in relative silence, which was strange; since Crowley was honestly a mouthful, but the child must have been preoccupying the mans mind, Bobby didn't blame him for being a bit mute.

Crowley pressed his lips firmly against the hunters, his mouth hot and warm against the others mouth. His lips urgent but never forcing, just wanting to taste and melt against the other. It made them both feel better about all of this, about the nonsense, about the child. Crowley wrapped his legs around the hunters hips, fingers threading through his lovers hair, holding him firmly against his mouth. Lips mashed together, breath mingling, but neither pursued to go any further than that.

Simply being held and pressed against the other was more than enough and more than fulfilling; Their lips parted, eyes fluttered shut and foreheads pressed against one another with their noses brushing.

"What are we going to do?" Crowley's voice was soft, rumbling on the surface, not all the way through. Bobby didn't shift or look up at him because he already knew that Crowley wasn't looking at him.

"I don't know." He said softly, lips brushing against the demons, "I don't know."

"What if they don't like me?" Crowley said suddenly, and Bobby couldn't help but chuckle. Quirking an eyebrow at the demon, practically scoffing.

"Of all the things you could be worried about-"

"Robert, I'm being serious." Bobby looked up to see Crowley glaring at him, but all Bobby could do was grin.

"Priorities," Bobby mumbled, pressing his lips against the demons lips, who, in response leaned in. They broke apart after a moment, but Crowley wasn't quite finished with musing about the kid and what they might be like. Crowley may be worried, but for the most part he seemed fine.

"Dibs on being called ' _Daddy._ '"

Bobby glared at him, "The kid's not even born yet."

"Don't start with me, I want to be called daddy." Crowley proclaimed, brushing his nose against Bobby's, "You can their mummy."

"Real cute," Bobby rolled his eyes, "If anyone's going to be their mommy, it's the bastard carrying them."

"You're just upset that I called dibs." Bobby wasn't going to lie, he really liked this side of Crowley; less stressed and worried about unconventional things, more lighthearted and even dorky at times that it was strangely endearing. It was nice to see him less consumed and well-- _demonic_ to put it bluntly. He was more given into emotion, like he had room to breathe and it was a nice change. Doesn't mean he still doesn't have that bitchy, ornery demon inside of him, it's just settled for the time and to be honest, it wasn't all that bad.

Bobby leaned down and pressed another kiss to the demons lips, who melted against the touch. Bobby liked this; it was off, and rather strange, but so was a great deal of things; however the difference between this and all of those things was that this was his, and he couldn't be happier.


	5. Chapter 5

"It'll just be an hour, I promise." Bobby replied offhandedly, "The boys need my help, and I sure as hell ain't gonna leave them hangin'."

Crowley pressed one hand against his large middle, the other reaching out to the hunters shoulder as Bobby pulled his jacket over his arms, shrugging it on. "Come now darling, I could be of some use-"

"Not when you look like your gonna pop any minute," Bobby chuckled, turning to give the demon a chaste kiss on the lips, before moving to fix his shoe. "Besides, we're dealing with Leviathan's, and god only knows what'll happen to you when they find out about baby Bobby."

Crowley frowned, "It's name is Freedom."

"We are _not_ gettin' into this now." The hunter smiled, grabbing for his gun, before checking the rounds. "Like I said, I'll be back shortly, if somethin' happens-"

"Call for feathers." Crowley groaned, "I'm tired of his feely hands."

"He's checkin' on Baby Bo-"

"Freedom."

"Enough," Bobby grabbed his bag, but before he could begin leaving, he found a hand clutching the opening of his jacket, he thought this was just some way the Demon planned on postponing the inevitable, but only found that the hand grabbed at the zipper, both of the spider-like hands pulling the sides together and zipping it up towards the hunters chest.

The demon averted his gaze, a slight tinge at his cheeks, letting his hands drop from the mans jacket to his belly once again, coughing awkwardly. "It's freezing outside," He muttered under his breath, "-wouldn't want you to catch a cold."

Bobby felt a smile tug at his lips, but he quickly shook it off, he had a job to do. He leaned forward, pecking the demon on the cheek before taking his leave, he shouldn't be gone for more than an hour.

Crowley watched as the door slammed shut, a heavy sigh bursting passed his lips, before his large eyes rolled. He was growing restless with all this time on his hands and not being able to go anywhere; every time he attempts to leave he gets teleported back, and he strongly believes that _sparkles_ has something to do with it. He wouldn't put it past Bobby to ask the angel to make sure he didn't get into any trouble.

Hell, he felt so goddamn domestic.

Hours seemed to have passed, almost in a mixed and slow motioned blur. Finding things to preoccupy himself, consisting of books, load of these novels he found laying around. Some by older classic horror writers such as Vincent Price, H.P. Lovecraft, Robert W. Chambers, Ted Dekker, Charles Dickens, and John Saul, up to crazed Journalists, hands having brushed up against more than a few Hunter S. Thompson novels.

He's probably scanned through several of these books by now, and he swears he's at least read _Hell House_ by Richard Matheson at least a numerous amount of times before. The plot never changes, the characters say the same thing, he doesn't know why he bothers re-scanning it.

He felt hungry, and tired, and dizzy, and downright frustrated with everything, if he couldn't find something to distract his mind he swore that he'll start burning this damn Library to the ground, _Hell House_ going first.

Crowley reached over the desk, snatching his black Scottish trench and shrugging it on his shoulders. He couldn't go anywhere, but it would be a shame to just let it hang there, untouched. The demon pressed his lips in a thin line, before his ears twitched, he could have sworn he heard a car door slam.

Crowley assumed it was either Bobby or the boys, so payed it no mind. He faced the books, and picked up a random novel, with a book-mark placed in the center. To his surprise, it was the Lord of the Flies novel, it was strange, he hadn't imagined his hunter to have an interest in such trivial stories. Bobby never ceased to surprise him.

The demon vaguely heard speaking, muffled and low, but he didn't bother trying to hear the words, he found the entire aspect pointless a while ago, if he wanted to know something, just ask. He always got what he wanted in the end anyhow.

The door opening, and scuffed footsteps came from behind, before they seemed to pause mid-step.

"Well look at what we have here," Came a deeply familiar voice, causing the demons eyes to stop scanning the words, his body going stiff. "The boss has been lookin'-" Crowley turned his head to get a better view of who was there, the movement slow but his face held a certain confused confidence that made the creature slow down on its words before almost failing completely at the slight sight he got of the man's middle. "Everywhere.. for you." His voice slowly came to a halt, whatever mirth he had on his face wiped off.

"Everywhere for little ol' me?" The Crossroads king said, a subtle cockiness drizzling in his voice, before turning around to face the creatures fully. Their were about 5 of them, and they all smelled like filth, Crowley deduced the aroma to be Leviathan. "I must say boys," He cocked his head to the side in a lazy sure manner, a smirk twitching it's way onto his face, "I'm flattered, truly."

None of the creatures responded, at least not immediately, having been somewhat floored by the unexpected size of the demons middle, who cleared his throat to regain their attention. Their eyes didn't move away, much to the demons annoyance, "Boys really, I realize I must be the most attractive thing you've seen in a few millinia, but there's no need to stare, plenty of me to go around." He felt trapped, "Now mind me asking what the _hell you morons are doing here_!" The shouting made the leviathan's flinch before snapping their eyes to the demons irritable face.

The middle one, who seemed to be the leader of the pact, smirked. "It seems to me we just got _pick-up_." He attempted to move forward but was halted by a sharp _'tsk tsk tsk'_ The demon seemed far too comfortable in their presence. Crowley leaned his back against the heavy wooden desk, supporting his weight, while a hand reached up to grasp the underside of his round belly, a puff of excess air blowing past his lips.

"Two for the price of one." One short leviathan muttered, exchanging a glance with another.

"An unexpected price"

"I was expecting the Winchesters," another commented, "What is the king of hell doin' here?"

"Is there a little demon seed growin' in him? Crowley is a _he_ ain't 'e?"

"That ain't a baby, he's just got some sort of demon STD, those disgusting greedy whores-"

"Actually-" Crowley attempted to interrupt, but the creatures seemed a bit distracted to hear him. He wondered vaguely if he could perhaps slip away unnoticed while they were coming up with some 'brilliant' idea as to why he'd gained some weight, but before he could even finally decide to leave, the creatures turned to him once again. The demon silently cursing the fact that he was momentarily incapable of flashing away.

"My my my, what have we here?" Crowley damn near cringed at the fine-pressed suit sight, as a 6th seem to walk into the room. Annoyingly handsome face smirking as the leviathan leader brushed passed his followers, "A demon king, how nice."

"Hello Dick," Crowley greeted, forced politeness edging at his voice, "Long time no spooning."

"Long time indeed you vermin," Dick hissed, but the smirk never left his face, "Didn't I tell you to stay out of America?"

Crowley cocked his head, "Indeed you did, but-" He waved his hands, "Couldn't stay away," He dropped a hand unconsciously to the upper roundness of his abdomen, furrowing his eyebrows slightly, a mirth making itself known. "Good profit in America, plenty of broken and willing souls that are just a kiss away."

Dick make a thoughtful sound, placing his hands contentedly, if not stricken, into his fine-pressed coat pockets, before his piercing eyes glanced down. "I believe I recall the bull headed Winchester boy saying something about you 'screwing me over'," He gave an aired chuckle, "It seems to me that the situation has flipped."

Crowley raised an eyebrow curiously at the male, who in response smirked, even wider if you'd believe it.

"Is that so?"

"Ah, yes. I believe it went something like-" He cleared his throat, making a show of pausing. " _But_ he _is_. _So, here's the thing when dealing with Crowley - he will always find a way to_ bone _you_.-" The leviathan coughed into his hand, "Although it seems to me that someone got around to you before you could get to me."

The demon looked him over, once, before reaching an idle hand back and clutching the side of the desk, adding more pressure to lean against. He could feel his heart pounding his his chest, a rush of panic rushing over him but he kept his ground. "How can you tell?"

"I can.. smell it." There was a look of disgust and mild interest on the mans face, pointing his nose in the air as if to make his point. There was a slight pause, before Dick's idle eyes returned to their position on the King of Hell's face, "I can smell something else."

"That is a dastardly ability," Crowley swung, scrunching up his face a moment in mock understanding, "Human's stick as it is, I'd hate to have that stench advanced."

"You know what I'm talking about." Dick hissed, and Crowley could hear the leviathan's behind him begin muttering.

Crowley paused, mock thought, before watching the face on Dick change, to an emotion he surely wasn't familiar with. "What?"

"There's a.. thing, somewhere." Dick suddenly stated, his eyes drifting away from the demon and to the stairs, before they snapped back to the dark haired Scott's-men. "An infant-" He tilted his head to the side, something commonly seen with Castiel, but far more cockier, than curious. "Did you adopt?"

"Adopt?" Crowley sounded nearly exasperated, "What are you? Annie? I'm from hell! Of course I didn't adopt some brat." He turned his gaze away for a moment, "I hadn't thought you thought us demons so lowly, I better get some sort of refund on those muffins-"

"Enough," Dick snapped, "Now tell us where the kid is-" He stopped, before his eyes dropped downward once again, mouth forming into an O shape. "Ah."

"What is it boss?" A short leviathan uttered, glancing over at the demon.

"It seems to me that our dear friend here.." He paused, as if looking for the right words to say, "Seems to me, that we have two little inbred's in our presence."

"What are you talkin' 'bout?" A taller, stubbier leviathan asked, eyebrows furrowing together.

"Don't listen to them," He directed this statement at the demon king, "They've never seen something like this before," He shrugged before taking a casual step further, "To be honest, I never had either.. But I-" He smiled, actually _smiled_ , "I was in control of your little trench coated friend, I got the _full_ damn _dictionary_." He flicked his tongue, another step forward. "These people of mine, although superior-" He raised a hand as if to prove his point, gracing it to the side, "-Do not know everything, but, how can you blame a leader to understand an abomination?"

"Oh, now you're just flirting."

"Don't test me," Dick was only mere feet away by now, "I know what you have, I can smell it.." He pointed his nose into the air, "It's this.. thick dark musk, surrounded in something as sweet and tender as flesh, something.. _human_ , If I may."

"Where are you get-"

"Oh don't play dumb, Crowle's." Dick smiled, "I must say, congratulations! You definitely went out there for this one, you picked a species completely out of your league, but hey," The leviathan shrugged, "People say humans get desperate."

Crowley felt a frown tugging at his lips, but he schooled his expression, smirk ever present. "Sound's sexy, but I can assure you 'desperate' isn't really a word in my vocabulary. What? Down you didn't get a piece first?"

"Oh definitely, can't you just imagine what a half-leviathan half-demon spawn would turn out?"

"Satan's worst nightmare." A female leviathan chuckled, but was quickly snapped at.

"Would you quite jibbing, and get to the reason you're here? Is it to burn the place down again? Go ahead, feathers thought it was a bright idea to bring the museum back to it's original 'Glory' after the first wipe out." Crowley drawled lightly, fingers running over the seam of the book he had sat down earlier, feeling it's roughness under his finger tips. He always did enjoy the feel of a good book.

"A real go-getter, aren't you?" Dick chuckled, shifting his weight, "Very well then, if you insist." Dick cracked his neck, "I had planned on eating the Winchester's.. what is he? A father? Any who.. Robert. Give the boys a taste of their own medicine with what they've been doing to my people-" He smirked, "But, it seems to me that we have a more, let's say, _pleasing_ meal on the table."

"Me?" Crowley cocked his head, "I'm flattered, really, but my pawns are already on the table." He winked, "Grab a number, get in line, and perhaps there will still be a few bits of me left by the time it's your turn."

"See, now that's the problem with me." He snapped his fingers, and the leviathan's behind him straightened their backs, their gazes lingering on the demons face before snapping down to the large belly he sported. "I'm a very impatient man."

"Pity," Crowley watched as the few began advancing towards him, "But I suppose those meat suits seem weak enough, although it might seem a bit strange if.. let's see here," Crowley counted the creatures, causing them to pause somewhat in their motions, "Alright five of you? Maybe six? Hm, Six little mixed-breeds running through the streets rampant, whatever shall you do?"

Dick held up a hand, forcing his comrades to halt completely, "Excuse me?"

Crowley paused, this almost innocently confused expression plastered across his face, before he wittingly pointed at the leader, "Oh," His eyes darted over to the others before falling on the 'bosses' face. "You don't know."

The man pulled an irate smiled across his lips, folding his hands in front of his nicely pressed sports jacket, giving a small shrug, "Wouldn't be asking if I did, now would I?"

"I personally believe you like the sound of my voice, but I've been wrong before."

"I asked you a question."

"So formal," Crowley nearly snorted, but held his break-less facade high, "I must say I'm surprised, but, I suppose you learn something new every day." The demon felt a small kick hit his hand, but ignored the feeling, this certainly wasn't the time to acknowledge the child.

"I'm waiting."

"Impatient," The demon muttered, "But, I suppose if you plan to eat me, you might as well know that the child won't die."

Dick laughed, obviously believing that the demon was lying. "Now that's ridiculous, it wouldn't survive, it's a _baby._ "

"It's a _Cambion_ and please tell me you know what that is."

"An abomination bastard child of a demon and a human, yes go on."

"Ouch, that really hurt Dick," Crowley licked his lips, his wet tongue darting over his parted lips before pressing them together for a moment, as if in thought for the briefest of seconds. "A Cambion, is what we demons call a _survivor_ , precarious things actually. It's quite difficult to kill, even harder than a angel, not to mention a demon." He began, pulling at his dark sleeves before dropping his hand from his rounded belly to rest in his coat pockets.

"You chop them up, if you can even get close enough to do so, they simply multiply, and die from old age. Abortion isn't an option, they just hang in their like that piece of popcorn stuck between your teeth." He clicked his tongue, before a half-smile tugged at his lips, "And here you are, trying to _eat_ one. You must realize that the piece's cut up and devoured will manifest inside of you like a virus, and you will be it's host. It'll eat away at you, take your energy, and rip out of your stomach when it's nice and ready."

Dick stared at him, a beat. "Bullshit."

"I'm afraid not, darling." He leveled his arms, "Cambion's are nasty creatures, but you've got to love them."

The leviathan paused, his stare never faltering. "Why are you not concerned then? It's _your_ body it's tearing out of."

"Ah, now that's the thing!" The king of the Crossroads pointed a near dramatic finger at the official, "I'm not a host," He smiled, "I haven't attempted murder of my infant now have I? Right now, it's content to just lay there until it's ready, and it seems to me it has no intentions of ripping out my insides, and feasting on my remains."

"That doesn't make any sense," The female grunted out, stepping forward, "If you claim it'll kill us, then why can't it kill you?"

"I conceived the damned thing," He smirked, "That's why."

"So tell me," Dick spoke up, "Who's the lucky father, or _father's_ , I should say."

Crowley frowned at him, pressing his nails into the palms of his hands. "What kind of whore do you put me out to be? Honestly, when have I ever just thrown myself around, at least more than necessary, eh?"

"I imagine you do so, often."

"Oh really? Me? ' _thank you sir, can I have another hot poker up the jacksy?_ ' Oh that doesn't seem like me at all."

The leviathan raised his arms, holding out the palms of his hands in mock surrender. "You got me."

"I always believed that was your sort of thing anyhow."

Dick bit back a growl, "Bite me."

"If that's your thing."

"Enough!" Dick shouted, causing a few of the leviathan's behind him to noticeably jump, seemingly somewhat antsy, unsettled almost. The head leviathan brought his hand to his face, running two fingers over the bridge of his nose, before dropping the appendage to his side. A soft frustrated chuckle broke past his lips. He moved forward, much to the demons surprise, as he felt rough hands press against the sides of his round stomach. Having only barely registered the fact that the creature had moved in the first place.

"This child," Dick began, and Crowley felt himself straining to hear him, careful not to make any sudden movements as to elicit an inevitable violent response. "This.. _abomination_ will be a powerful little tyke, am I right?" His deep endless eyes moved to gaze into the demons, who made no incentive to respond, his face still, and carefully controlled, with this tight fear and caution edging its way closer.

There was a soft, low chuckle that escaped his throat, and for some strange reason Crowley could suddenly imagine this being Lucifer, before smiting him and sending him to the deepest pits of hell, that not even he could crawl out of.

"You don't have to say anything, you're like a mother hen, protecting her eggs, or _egg_ in this matter. If I was you, I wouldn't speak either-" The leviathan moved his head, dipping it next to the king of the Crossroads ear, his voice soft and low, and just below a whisper. "We both know what this child will be capable of." Crowley felt the hand tighten, however subtly, against his abdomen, before the grip dropped, and the head moved back in view; this dark, knowing, and yet unsettling smile fitted across the leviathan's face, before carefully stepping backwards.

"Let's head out, boys." Dick called, eyes never leaving the demons stricken face.

"What?" One of them hissed, and Crowley was too caught up to point out who. The swimming eyes looked away from the Crossroads king and to his people, frowning at the one who dared to speak up.

"I said so, now, _go_." He turned his back away from the king of hell, and began brushing past the few leviathan's that stood in his way to the door.

"Sir, what about-"

"Robert will be left untouched, besides-" Mr. Roman turned to look at Crowley, his head sleek and a smirk already present where it wasn't a moment before. "A baby need's its daddy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really edit this one too much, and we got some Dick so cool.


	6. Chapter 6

A few weeks after the incident had been utter chaos, and Crowley could still remember the vivid expression on his lovers face when he heard that their had been leviathans on his property, and the instant flashes of emotions that crossed his face when he heard about him being cornered.

Crowley never spoke of the fact that Dick was there, nor on the fact that the asshole had physically touched him, and knew about the child; Not even about how Dick just sort of.. _knew_ who helped fucking create it. Crowley was a lot of things, and although most people don't see him as considerate, he does have his moments. The infamous Crossroads king didn't plan on telling Bobby, the man already had too much on his plate to worry about as it is, and he just didn't (More or less _couldn't_ ) drop more on it.

Bobby had made this _big unnecessary_ fuss about the entire ordeal; He was fine! Nothing happened, the baby was safe, and he left without a single scratch on him, not even any real emotional torment. Crowley personally saw this as a good thing, but Bobby just couldn't get over the fact that he " _Wasn't there_ " when he " _needed_ " him, and he " _Couldn't protect_ " him. Well, come now Bobby- They're leviathans, even if he was here, he wouldn't have been able to take on all of them (Not considering the fact that they wouldn't have stayed that way for long.)

Oh, and don't even get him _started_ on the ridiculous procedures he's making feathers do.

" _I wanna have this place checked within the mile every hour-_ " he said, " _I can't have another breakin' like this , 'specially with baby Bobby on its way-_ " He said.

Overreacting.

A warm idle hand pat his shoulder in passing, and was nearly surprised by whose hand it belonged to. Dean didn't look at him as his hand slipped back to his side, continuing on his way to the Impala awaiting outside.

Crowley made a small noise, his deep eyes gazing at the others broad shoulders in near confusion, yet subtle understanding. The entire fact that Dean was slowly coming to acknowledge him was a surprise all in itself, the Crossroads king having deeply expected him to have resented him, and the child; anything and everything that had to do with him. Not only was Dean slowly edging closer, but he even seemed (is, was) outraged- If that's the appropriate word to use- when he heard about the leviathans.

His eyes dropped as the young hunter turned out of the door, passing feathers on his way; exchanging a word or two.

Now, Castiel.

Castiel, well- Crowley didn't know what to make of him. The celestial being stared at him more than he was comfortable with, not to mention how his vivid expressive eyes seemed to see right through him. Crowley believed deeply that the angel knows about Dick Roman- How couldn't he? Crowley never mentioned it, and Castiel did the right thing by never bringing it up. And to this, needless how rarely this emotion surfaced, he was grateful.

It's been this- Protective overdrive- with the Winchesters, and Crowley had never felt of such import before. He recalls the target on his back that Hell had on him after Lucifer's rising from the pit, what he had to do, with the boys and with himself; although he was fond of the "Lovers in League against Satan," It was better for him not to be on the spotlight, and to just observe until he is needed.

It was somewhat strange that he was the target for so much attention, and even stranger yet that the attention didn't want to tear him apart the moment he was within arms reach.

The demons eyes flickered over to the angels, who gave a small, almost insignificant, smile at the dark haired king, feet moving swiftly and surely across the ground, his light steps made soft thudding against the ground before he was facing the demon entirely, but neither hand moved forward to grasp the area in which the demon knew the angel wanted to.

Instead, the deep bright blue eyes snapped to the open window, the orange and yellows from the trees surrounding them reflecting off the angels wide orbs before they darted downward and examined the round bump. "It's getting larger." The angel stated simply, as if an afterthought of an original comment that had died on his tongue.

"Really? Haven't noticed." He replied, receiving a blank stare from the angel- A cold hand touched the side of the demons abdomen carefully, making the Crossroads king blink, but refrained from commenting. Castiel dropped his eyes to the stomach once again before his second hand joined on the other side.

There was a moment of silence before both hands dropped. "Status report, sparkles?" The demon rolled the 'a' on his tongue a moment, shifting on his feet ever so subtly. His ankles hurt somewhat, but weren't swollen, he'd been able to refrain his body from having such a reaction, although he couldn't refrain from.. what was it that Moose said? Something about him ' _glowing_ '- He checked in the mirror, it didn't seem as if he was anything else but his normal tint of skin. He certainly wasn't glowing like some childish 'glow in the dark' creature, seemed downright ridiculous; besides, isn't that was feathers does?

"Only that it has gained a bit in weight, nothing out of the ordinary," He paused, "Considering."

"Still an 'it', eh?" Crowley mumbled rhetorically, but received a nod anyhow.

"Have you and Bobby thought of names?" Castiel asked, shuffling his feet across the floor, guiding the demon along with him to sit him on the couch. Something about the way he must have been shifting, must have either concerned or annoyed the angel, causing him to want to get the Crossroads king off of his feet.

Crowley paused a moment, "We thought of a few for the little bugger, but nothing final."

"I liked the name Murdoc," Dean strolled in, a filthy grease covered rag in one hand, and a half empty beer bottle in the other, dragging his heavy feet across the room to set the rag against the other couch, dropping it. "Murdoc's a cool name."

"That's suggesting it's a boy," Sam jogged down the stairs, a pile of books in his arms with Bobby in tow, who carried the same, if not more, right behind him. "We still don't know what it is yet."

"Well it can't be _baby Bobby_ forever, now can it?" Dean muttered, leaning against the desk, moving over slightly to allow the two hunters to drop their novels and biblical nonsense and fables across the desk top, lose pages fluttering before swaying to the ground.

"The hell it can't!" Bobby grunted, plopping down his own pile, and snatching the book off the top, reading the label before setting it aside. "It'll be whatever we decide."

"We're not deciding on _baby Bobby_ , if you don't like _freedom_." Crowley muttered, adjusting himself in his seat, "Think of something else."

"We could simply chose both a male and a female name," Castiel offered, "It would make the decision making somewhat easier."

"We tried that before, and _Samantha_ here gave me a bloody nose." Dean frowned, eyes darting over to his little brother who gave him a defiant glare.

"If you stopped picking names like _Ruby_ and Meg you would have been fine." The taller younger Winchester retorted, moving to sit on the opposite couch, plopping down his weight with a light _thud_ , eyes never straying far from his brothers.

"Although, prop's on the _Luci_ idea," Crowley chuckled lightly, "Truly the best suggestion I've heard in a while."

Dean gave a light chuckle, before turning to look at Bobby. "I think the name Hannibal could work-"

"What? As in Hannibal Lecter?" Sam made a disgruntled face, "Yeah, no."

"No!" Dean waved his hand, "As in Hannibal Niccals."

"Who's Hannibal Niccals?" Castiel questioned, squinting his eyes into a curious gaze as they darted between the two brothers, his head tilted ever so slightly to the side. Crowley saw a few dark strands of hair fall into his face, but didn't comment. Dean looked at the angel and gave a cocky smile, "Hannibal Niccals is Murdoc Niccals brother-"

"He doesn't listen to the Gorillaz Dean," Sam muttered, receiving a dark look from his older brother.

"Well how would you know?" The older hunter gave an exasperated look, fingers gripping at the bottom of his bottle before bringing it to his lips, "It's a good band." He took a quick sip of his drink before setting it down.

"Can you think of real names, ya' idjits?" Bobby huffed, "Something normal for Christ's sake, like Jim.. or Alex."

Dean waved his hand in the older hunters direction, "Those name's don't sound scary enough."

"You're looking for scary?" Bobby questioned, "Now why the hell would I name my kid after something like that?"

"It's half demon!" Dean countered, raising his eyebrows to look at the older hunter better, "At least name it Freddy, or Jason, or even Chucky just to get some kicks out of this."

"What about David?" Sam suggested.

"David?" Dean snapped his accusing gaze at his brother, "What do you mean-" He stopped, pushing himself from the desk, "You guys just don't know what you're missing out on."

"I must agree," Crowley spoke up, fingers idly stroking the side of his abdomen, the motions being tracked by the eldest hunters eyes, but the demon didn't register the movement. "I would prefer something less 'Kidz Bop,' thank you." He snickered, "And isn't David some sort of biblical name?"

"You seem to forget that everyone seems to have some sort of _bible_ name," Dean muttered, crossing his arms as he leaned against the desk once again, "Can't tell the goddamn difference anymore."

Bobby sighed to himself, crossing from his desk to take a seat next to his demon, who willingly scooted over a bit to give the man some room. "Well, if we're gonna name it, lets do somethin' meaningful," The elder hunter grunted, placing a rough hand on the demons knee cap, thumb rubbing against the side a moment before going still from it's comforting motions. "I'd rather not name my kid after Satan, thank you Dean."

Dean smirked, before sending Bobby a wink, taking a few sips from his bottle. Castiel moved to stand next to the brothers, taking his place beside Dean.

"Can we start with Girl names first? They're a lot easier." Sam uttered, crossing his legs before leaning back against his seat. Dean scrunched up his face.

"The hell they are."

"Well I can think of a few," Bobby spoke up, "When I think of girls names, I always think of Ellen and Jo, but I think they'd be squirmin' in their graves if they found out we named a Demon after 'em, so that's off the list." His eyes wandered over to the large section of books sitting on his desk. "What about Elle, or.. Leah-"

"No bible names." Crowley retorted, leaning against his own seat, turning his head to face his hunter, he quirked a smile at him.

"Okay then, how 'bout Alice-"

"Pull your head out of Wonderland."

Sam smirked, "It's better than 'Lilith'." The group of men burst into subtle laughter, Castiel shifting on his feet. The angel scooted a little bit closer to Dean, but nobody paid it any mind, although feathers wasn't paying attention to the demon eyes watching his movements, before carefully averting his eyes.

"What about Jessica?" Sams eyes darted upward to Bobby's, whose voice was soft, but made a point not to look the younger hunter in the eyes. "I mean, it's a nice name-"

"You'd do that?" Everyone was quiet as their eyes looked upward at Sam's, they seemed sad, almost void-less, but their was something soft in them, something almost pleading.

"'Course," Bobby let out a small puff of air, "Don't see why not.. Well, unless, _you-_ " Bobby turned his attention to Crowley, "-Mind." The demon looked between the two of them, before silently contemplating the name.

Jessica.. _Jessica_. It wasn't a bad name; he could seem himself cradling a little girl with a name like that, although it could be a little weird for Gigantor to call after a little child with the same name as his dead girlfriend, but other than that- Well if Sam wanted to make getting over her (At least he had originally believed he was over her-) hard, then so be it.

"I've no complaints," His eyebrows were raised in a certain type of acceptance, as he faced the hunter. Bobby gave him one of his rare toothy smiles and the demon could feel the hand on his knee squeeze.

"Okay, Jessica- Jessica what? Middle name? Anyone?" Dean paused, almost waiting for some sort of response that may hinder his chance.

Bobby frowned at him, "Well, get on with it ya' idjit, we know you're waiting."

"Jessica Tyler."

"Tyler? As in-"

"Yes." Dean smiled, "No questions, we're keeping it-" Crowley looked as if he was about to retort, but Dean put up a hand to silence him, "Ah ah, no. We're keeping it." There was a pause, "Alright." He clapped his hands together, "On to boys names."

"James, Alex, Josh, Harry, Jensen-" Sam listed a few names at the top of his head, "-Thomas, Jared, Mark, Misha-"

"Misha?" Dean questioned, "What kind of name is that?"

"I actually like that name," Castiel spoke up, "May we use that one?" Dean pat the angels arm, but didn't answer.

"Somethin' meaningful," Bobby brought back up, "I want a name that really sticks."

The brothers let out a puff of air, before going quite for the time being, eyes looking around as if to find some sort of inspiration. Crowley uttered a few ideas to Bobby which the hunter knocked down, finding them too 'demonic' and he didn't want other hunters 'gettin' any ideas.' Bobby popped out a few other names, but they sounded too simple, and none of them had the meaning that they were looking for, they didn't stand out.

Castiel hadn't spoke a word as names were thrown and knocked down, and it seemed as if a game were being played, seeing how many names can be shot down until someones spirit gets shot down with it. They threw out amazing actors names, to musicians and writers, from family oriented to dictators and about everything else in between.

Bobby wasn't hearing anything that clicked, something that would have stood out, and actually meant something. A few were brought up that weren't bad, but none were good enough, or majority approved.

Crowley had heard more than perhaps 50 unintentional biblical names, and 15 that Dean threw in on purpose. Because 'Gabriel' wasn't obvious in the least.

Not at all.

A hand ran its way over the bridge of the demons nose, running down it with his index and thumb, a heavy sigh bursting passed his lips. The child was growing restless, kicking every which way, and it was starting to ache; holding a firm hand on the center of his belly, he tried to keep the kicking from being so erratic, but it was hard. It hurt. He could barely think straight with a child doing the harlemshake where it shouldn't.

"-No Dean," Crowley could hear the exasperation in Bobby's voice, "For the last time we're not naming the child Dean, you egotistical idjit." Their was a soft amused snort that Sam sprouted, and a thoughtful hum from the angel.

"What about Roderick?"

Crowleys eyes snapped up to the angel, as if the angel had wrapped his cold hands around something precious and rare before tossing it to the cold hard ground, and watch it shatter with a glint of amusement in his deep bottomless eyes. It was like hearing screaming and laughter mixed together in a mash of colors and vibrations, and you find yourself suffocating.

"Roderick?" The sound made the demon king wince, and he could feel the hand on his knee tighten, as concerned eyes looked at his face, but Crowley avoided the eye contact, acting as if the man didn't feel him tense under his articulate hand. "Why Roderick?" Sam's voice rolled over the name, as if testing it out and accusing it at the same time.

Dean seemed to roll his tongue over the name as well, flicking it around until it seemed to shape up the way he expected it would, or didn't before looking at the angel. "Not sure how I like it," The older Winchester muttered, he turned to face the angel, who, in retrospect, was staring holes in the demon. Crowley could feel it, chills shooting up his spine at the prospect, and he really just wanted to disappear.

Crowley's eyes moved away from everyone, toning out the voices as his mind raced. ' _Why'd he pick that name?_ ' ' _Is this some sort of sick little revenge-_ ' ' _-bringing up years long since past-_ ' ' _-that was century's ago-!_ ' ' _-I made some mistakes back then.. selling my soul. Although the "Double-Digits" were wonderful to have below the belt those 10 years-_ '

The demon king could hear them talking, but couldn't make out a word of it. How could he? Sometimes their voices stuck to this monotone and could never seem to break free of its clasping restraints. The way the brothers nearly finished each others sentences, or with a fist in the others face. Their was no real rhythm to their words, but a pattern; something miscalculated, something rude, and something painfully between their broken shattered consciousness that Crowley isn't certain what's keeping them in one piece.

They stuck to each other like glue, mixing together like warm autumn colors that blew across the sky in a mixture of reds, oranges, and yellows; Crowley vaguely thought of the light outside reflecting against the angels eyes, and nearly chuckled. Feathers always had a way of making even the strangest of things shine, like they always had been and always will be.

Dazed eyes looked at the hardwood ground, and outlined each crack, each mark, with his wandering orbs. Softly examining the shadows that crept across the floor from the late afternoon light that bled through the window, leaving the room to have this bright, and yet somewhat dull look over it. It was some of the few things that he never really thought about in his lifetime, never bothered to even look at. All it ever was, was progress, deals, souls, bam, bam, bam; everything shooting about into a blur, creating makeshift memories and details that Crowley questioned ever existed.

"-up with it?" The voice was profoundly louder, or Crowley had unconsciously began listening, both are likely. He felt his lungs fill up with air somewhat, before his eyes moved from the ground, darting over to see his lovers feet. Bobby was wearing dark steel toed boots, that had scratches and other such dried muck attacked to the sides, and most likely the bottom, sloppily tied together, however tightly, with the strings flung about in a strange bow.

"Yeah," Sam interjected, "S'not exactly a biblical name," He adjusted the way he was sitting, shifting his legs ever so slightly before crossing them. "At least I don't think so."

"Didn't Bobby want something meaningful?" Dean commented, "I don't know about you, but Roderick and Trevor don't seem to have much meaning to me." Trevor, when did Trevor make itself known?

"Roderick has a significant meaning." Castiel spoke, looking from both of the boys to the demon and hunter sitting side by side on the other side of the room. "I would not have said it if it hadn't."

"I feel like I've heard it somewhere before," Bobby muttered, scrunching up his eyebrows, "Hey, didn't I read something about this? Like uh..-" He snapped his fingers, "-about um, the Vampires?" He looked to the brothers, "Is that right? Was he the leader?"

"No," Dean waved his hand, "That was Boris, damn Vampire alpha."

"Then who the _hell_ is Roderick?" The exclamation sounded more frustrated than confused, but maybe that was just Bobby. Crowley tensed once again, the contraction of muscle made the hunter, whose hand had never dropped from his knee, look at him once again, and once again he never looked him in the eye.

"This may or may not mean much, if anything, to Dean and Sam-" Castiel's eyes flickered to them a moment before steadying his bottomless orbs on the two sitting on the couch, "-But this may mean something to Bobby."

The elder hunter looked at him, giving him a gesture as if to hurry him along, "Well?"

Castiel looked at Crowley, who refused to level the gaze, but continued anyhow. "Fergus Roderick McLeod," The angel began, slowly letting the name drip from his mouth, "Born in 1661, to the current day-" Crowley felt the gazes shifting, more sets of eyes resting on his face, his body, his _being_. Shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"-approximately 352 years old, as of now. At least, part of him." Crowley looked up, to see the room having their unhindered attention on him. His eyebrows raised somewhat, eyes darting back and forth between the sets.. just _staring_ at him.

"What?"

"Your name was Fergus?" Dean flew, exchanging glances between his brother.

"I believe this isn't the first time you've heard it." It wasn't Crowley who said that, the words had been stolen from his lips by Mr. Feathers over there, with this triumphant gleam in his eye, and Crowley just didn't know why he seemed so damn cocky with himself. It wasn't, in all honesty, the first time the boys have heard his name before; Crowley grimaced. His bones were almost burned, and his good-for-nothing dead son Gavin told them- All for a soul that he was just unwilling to let go of. It was a part of Bobby so intimate so _real_ that Crowley wouldn't dare ask for more, and struggled to let go of; This, being before the two had actually 'hit it off' as others put it.

"So," Bobby began slowly, "You're suggesting we name the kid after Crowley?"

"I say we name the child after Mark Pellegrino, and forget we had this little discussion, yes?"

"Crowley." The Moose cut in, "You're more of an egotistical bastard than Dean is," He mouthed, "You're really denying naming the baby after yourself?"

A beat. "No, I just don't particularly enjoy that name, is all."

"It was _your_ name." The older Winchester protested, clicking at the words with a flick of his tongue.

"Yes, key term being _was_ , and I'm not one to wallow in the past-"

"I don't think Roderick's such a bad name," Bobby muttered, averting everyone's attention away from the Demon. "I kinda like the ring to it," Crowley looked up at the hunter from under his lashes, lips pressing themselves together in a thin uncertain line. Bobby watched him with soft eyes, "What do you think?"

Crowley paused, dropping his gaze from the elder hunters down to his round abdomen.

Roderick.

Roderick Singer.

He felt the hand on his knee tighten, for perhaps the third time that afternoon, but it was the first time he leaned into the touch. Perhaps old wounds would heal, and it may not be too bad or strange to hear the name being called, and not being the one who has to respond. An idle hand dragged over the side of his belly, and another kick moved his hand- Roderick.

Little Roderick Singer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, mistakes weren't edited, and I'll end up going through it later on and fixing it up.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made is miscalculation with how many chapters there were. My bad-- Two more after this.

"It's not disgusting."

"It looks like it's going to roll off of the plate."

"It's the blood isn't it."

"No, I've seen that before, but that white stuff looks alive."

"..So it is the blood."

"Crowley!"

The Crossroads king nearly pouted at the hunter, but settled with scowling instead. Grasping the bowl in his hands, pulling it closer to his body, the soft scraping from the bottom of the bowl against the wooden table quietly reverberated before the room was fitted with tense, nearly redundant silence.

Haggis with neeps and tatties, one of Crowley's guilty pleasures, and was especially something that the demon happened to be craving deeply. The ingredients were simple, the meal all in itself was simple. Haggis is a Scottish dish that is like a large sausage, or a large steamed pudding, with a sheep's stomach used as the wrapper for the stuffing inside. In some ways, it is an original version of a steamed pudding. With some mashed potatoes and some side sauce, which would have been Whisky, but Bobby had forbade the Demon to drink while with child; it had, unfortunately, been replaced with goat blood.

"Well I don't see any better replacement." The demon snapped, rolling the end of his fork in his hand, "The tyke won't accept anything else."

"It seemed to agree with the cake-"

Crowley made a bemused face, "Robert, I _forced_ the little abomination to agree with that cake." His eyes looked down to the food on his plate, before stabbing the fork into a cut off piece of meat, dragging it into the goats blood with a twist of his fingers, bringing the food to his face, he examined it momentarily before plopping the lamb into his mouth.

"Don't call it that, ya' idjit." Bobby rasped, making a point to avert his eyes from the food on the plate. "It's not an abomination."

There was a pause where Crowley didn't respond, and kept his attention on his plate, a sullen expression littering his face. Bobby thought nothing of it as he walked over to the refrigerator, eyes dragging inside, to where a fish had been wrapped tightly and stored behind some jars, the content in the jars, for the most part, was either forgotten, or unknown.

"I'm pregnant, not stupid," Crowley muttered, "I think I may know what is and isn't this thing in my gut."

"That _thing_ ," Bobby emphasized, pointing his eyes determinedly at his lovers abdomen, "Is _our_ baby, not some.." He turned to look at the fridge again, "-messed up abomination from the depth of hell."

"Although-"

"Don't finish that." Bobby raised his hand, signaling for the demon to stop talking, and received a grunt in response. The silence lingered on, and eventually the hunter closed the fridge, looking at the feasting demon from across the way, sitting fondly at the table and stuffing his face with the food he had created. Some blood had dripped from the side of the demons mouth, contrasting greatly against his pale skin, and mixing with the slight stubble of his face. Crowley's features were soft, and seemingly somewhere else as he scooped up some more mashed potato's, sticking the fork between his lips.

He was wearing his original attire, for the most part, having replaced (Momentarily) his black button up with a black long-sleeved turtleneck instead, his deep black dress-pants, minus the shoes, as he was only wearing dark socks, with his black overcoat hanging on his shoulders, unbuttoned, and hugging his broad shoulders. The Demon sat cross-legged on his chair, with blood dripping from the tips of his delicate fingers, his tongue darted outward and licked up the dribbling remains; Bobby watched in eager fascination, feeling his loins slightly ache at the action.

"Where are the boys?" Crowley absently muttered, swallowing whatever was in his mouth, using the back of his hand to dab away the blood lingering on his chin, causing it to smudge. "It's almost weird going more than an hour without celestial grabby hands on my tucker."

"Got a case in Mississippi," Bobby groaned, adjusting his legs.

"Let me guess," Crowley looked up at the hunter with those knowing cocky eyes of his, "Leviathans?"

"Actually, no," Bobby made a bemused noise, closing the refrigerator and standing upright, "Vengeful spirits."

Crowley raised in eyebrows in mock surprise before lowering them once again, the motion so often seen in average conversation, it's quickly forgotten or ignored at this point. Crowley thumbed the end of his fork before moving it around his mashed potatoes, before scooping some onto his utensil. The demon made a 'hm' noise, "Well," He paused, his eyes looking up at his hunter, "At least you know they're okay."

Bobby snorted, "You can never tell if those boys are okay."

"Oh come now," Crowley waved his covered fork, his eyebrows furrowing together slightly as he gave the hunter a defiant look, "They've survived angels, _arch_ angels, demons, Crossroads, ghosts-"

"Jefferson Starships."

Crowley smiled, a chuckle bursting past his lips as he looked down to his plate, "Yeah, Jefferson Starships." He looked up again, "Plenty of sodding creatures I'm unwilling to name, not to mention _Satan_." He raised his hands, "How many people, _humans_ or... really _anything_ , can say they went up against dear ol' Luci and survive, love?" He placed his fork in his mouth, his tongue moved over the metal and pulled the food deeper into his mouth. "Not many."

"Don't speak with your mouth full."

Crowley nearly rolled his eyes, before stiffly swallowing, "Mr. Sanitary over here."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

Bobby wasn't entirely sure if that was a taunt, or an invitation, but by the way the demon twirled the words and let them drip out of his mouth as if it were a suggestive mock, Bobby was forced to believe the latter.

The hunter smirked at the King of Hell, but shook his head, much to the demon king's dismay. "Not while you have the little devil riding shotgun."

"But Robert-!" Crowley began with a diffident whine, a tilt of the head and a roll of the eyes. "When's the last time we went to town under the sheets, darling?" Crowley placed his head into the palm of his hand, elbow on the table and shoot the hunter a weary look. "You've barely _touched_ me since you found out about the baby-"

"No," Bobby held up his hand, trying to silence Crowley, but the ornery bastard never was one to obey orders.

"It's been _months!_ "

"Crowley, I said no." Bobby sighed; it wasn't that he _didn't_ want to-- God know's he's been dying to feel him again, take him and watch him squirm below him. Bobby tried not to think about it as much as he could, not when Crowley's got a kid inside of him. Anything and everything he wants to do to Crowley can wait until the kid's out and he won't have to worry about it anymore. Bobby hated it, and he knew Crowley hated it far more than he did, but it would be a cold day in hell if he were to risk something just because he let lust take over his better judgement. "I don't want to take the chance of somethin' happenin'." Crowley gave the hunter a deflated agitated look.

"I'm a demon!" Crowley exclaimed, "I can heal any damage-"

"I don't want you to be hurt in the first place, damn it!" Bobby snapped, silencing the demon king, "I'm not _good_ at this Crowley, I've no _idea_ what's expected of me and I'm damn scared _to death_ that I'm gonna mess this up like I mess up everything else!"

Crowley looked at the hunter with large round eyes, curiosity and a hint of surprise edging around the expressive orbs. "Robert-"

"-I couldn't even take care of those boys, Heaven and Hell working around the fine print and plucking them up one after the other. John's dead, I could have _prevented_ that, Crowley, I could have _prevented_ him from taking up this lifestyle, if I pushed a little further.. The-The boys would have had a normal life, but no. I messed up and now they're sufferin' for it. Hell, I can't even keep you safe in my own home!" The hunter shouted, barely noticing as the demon made to stand. "-A goddamn _Leviathan_ was here, and _you_ were here, and you were supposed to be safe-"

"Robert."

"-What kinda hunter am I? I'm gettin' too old for this. I denied Karen children..-for fuck's sake I _forced_ you to-"

"Robert."

"-I can't even begin to imagine what kind of parent I'd be, if I'd be like my father-"

" _Robert!_ " Delicate hands snapped forward, snatching the hunters face into the pale grasp, the beard scratching against the demons palms. "Don't say things like that!" Crowley's voice wavered, furrowing his eyebrows, glaring at the hunter, "Don't yo- don't you _ever_ say things like that." Bobby made no indication of answering. Bobby could feel the demon from his arms, he could feel him shaking. Crowley growled, "For the love of _sin_ , Robert! Where is this _coming from_?"

When Bobby made no indication of responding, a few lingering moments of silence had passed, and Crowley was starting to get a better look behind the hunters harden stoic exterior, and saw that he was afraid. But afraid of _what_?

"Bobby," Bobby, a name that Crowley never uttered, the hunter looked downward at the demons pudgy face, "I want you to look me in the eyes, tell me, what's gotten into you?"

"Everything," Bobby spoke, his voice sounding heavy, "How am I supposed to take care of a kid if I can barely take care of you." It wasn't a question.

"You take care of me just fine, you know finances aren't an issue-" Bobby grabbed the demons hands off of his face, but didn't release them.

"That's not what I mean and you know it," Bobby wavered, "I mean I can't.." The hunter paused, "-I can't _protect_ you. I mean.. Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"

"You're not supposed to do anything you can't," Crowley looked up at the hunter, his curious gaze fading into something softer. "I'm not asking for your protection, all I ask if for you to-" Crowley stopped, suddenly looking uncomfortable. The hesitant pause made the hunter raise a brow at the demon, who shifted on his feet.

Crowley breathed, regaining a bit of lost composure, "-Just.. need you to- be there." The words came out, uncertain, slowly, like it was absurd for him to ask and that he should go crawl in a hole somewhere. Which was a strange image, but not as strange as Crowley creating a nest of sorts in their bedroom. Which reminds the hunter that he's gonna need to go out and get some more blankets soon.

The statement made Bobby give the demon a nearly astonished, surprised look. "Well 'course I'm gonna be there, where else will I be?"

Crowley looked even more uncomfortable, if that was even possible, and Bobby felt like he'd be shot with rock salt rounds.

The fact that Crowley looked so goddamn adorable with his pudgy face, and his round belly, and that downright _kicked puppy_ look sprawled all over his normally stoic or smug expression on his face didn't help, he looked nervous, almost dejected. Crowley didn't want to lose his hunter just as much as Bobby didn't want to lose his demon king.

Crowley's face was grasped between two rough hands, in a similar position he put Bobby into mere moments before. "Crowley," Bobby started, pausing.

The fact that he was talking about his own fears, he hadn't realized he was forcing Crowley's only fear to surface. He was afraid what kind of dad he was going to be, and Crowley interpreted that as Bobby getting ready to leave him. Crowley's afraid of being left alone; words were failing the hunter when he looked into that somewhat deflated expression across the demons face, and did the only thing he could do.

Capturing the demons lips between his own, he felt hands grab at the front of his vest, tugging his body closer. What was chaste turned sweeter, deeper; no passion, no lust, only pure reassurance, the need to know that they were okay, that nobody was going anywhere. The tension from hunts gone by melted, fears and agitation were whisked away, leaving the warmer holds behind, leaving them behind.

For a moment, everything was okay, everyone was okay. Dean had his precious angel, while Castiel was still trying to figure out why Dean was so special to him, feathers and squirrel were still denying any non-platonic feelings for each other, demon king's could get pregnant, Dick Roman was a dick, Adam was still in the cage, and Sam was still a moose and everything was okay.

Except for Adam. Who the fuck forgets their own brother in Satan's play-pen.

Crowley broke the kiss, feeling the taller man's head resting against his own, foreheads touching and bother just watching each other. Bobby's hands never moved from his face, breath mingling together, the heat brushing over each of the man's face's. "I'm not goin' anywhere," Bobby murmured.

Another chick-flick moment, if Dean were here Bobby was sure that he'd never hear the end of it. But, right now, Crowley needed to hear it, and he needed to say it. He wasn't going to up and split from Crowley, especially since he's in this condition. The demon king didn't ask to be like this, and Bobby wasn't planning on splitting away because he was a little scared. He's take it, and do his damn best. Not to mention he'd gonna have the two Winchester boys as back up, and an Angel of the Lord.

It's gonna be alright, everything's gonna be alright. "You know, after all we've been through," Bobby smiled sheepishly, "It don't matter when at the end of the day, I get to come to you."

"Now now, you know I hate romance when a number isn't playing in the background." Crowley breathed, causing the hunter to chuckled.

Everything was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, fight.
> 
> Whoo, cheesy make up scene.
> 
> Whoo, Adams still in hell.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The one shouting in the beginning is Castiel, by the way, if it wasn't already obvious [which it probably isn't.]

" _Dean you need to get him out of here._ "

" _Listen to me Bobby, you don't want to see this-_ "

" _SAM, GET HIM OUT._ "

" _Bobby, we need to go!_ "

Arms seemed to come out of nowhere and everywhere at once, it didn't even seem possible. He was quickly forced out of the room with the multitude of hands pulling him out, forcing him from his shock and pushing his feet until the door was quickly slammed behind him, and all he could hear was a loud pained scream that he'd never heard before; it was raspy and wavering; Clipped and shattered, the longer it lasted the louder it became. 

It all started with a crash in the kitchen, Bobby being the last to make it in the room. Sam and Dean were hovering over a Castiel, who was a lot closer to the ground that he should have been, before his eyes caught sight of a flash a black. That was when the screaming started.

After that everything was a blur, and the hunter had never felt so disoriented. Castiel having taken the demon into their bedroom, with nowhere better to go, and sealing the door. When he tried to see what was going on, when the screams got worse or when things would go terribly silent, Castiel would force the door impossibly shut, while the boys did everything they could to keep his weary nerves under control with keeping him downstairs; consoling him, jumping from topic to topic, and at one point suggested they go outside, but Bobby refused; however the muffled screaming would sometimes get unbearable, and it caused the hunter to be edgy and on his feet for a majority of the time. It was too hard to sit, he couldn't think straight.

The piercing sound shifted from human into something almost primal and physically broken about it, it sounded hurt, shaking and wavering; the house having quaked more than once, items being thrown about and shattering at random, fires starting and spreading before disappearing completely, the damage nonexistent.

Bobby couldn't tell if Crowley was dying or not, and almost felt his brain shut down every time the house would grow terribly silent; the relief he felt when the screaming started again was nothing he dare admit. It was like this hollowness in his chest and he felt so guilty; This was all his fault. If he had been more careful, if he had been more persistent on wearing protection, if he tried harder to be in that room-- Fucking _hell_ Bobby felt awful.

Dean had tried to get Bobby's mind off of it, tried to distract him with stories and hunts him and Sam had been on, parts of their childhood that Bobby wasn't there to see, or even people they've met. Sam would jump in and try to be just as distracting; Seeing his boys trying to comfort and be there for him in this backwards situation, it helped, needless to say.

Sitting on the couch, face buried in his hands, shoulders impossibly tense. Sam and Dean stood in the room, pacing back and forth, or leaning against something. They were trying, they all were, and they were all rather put off; But the boys didn't leave him there by himself, and for that, he was grateful. He didn't think he could cope being all by himself.

"Dean." The voice startled the men, who jumped nearly in unison. Bobby looked up, face sullen and downright horrified about any news, but if Castiel had any, he didn't divulge. The angel's trench coat had blood staining into the sleeves and the angels abdomen; His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, and his jaw was set. He looked tired, as if drained from whatever the hell was going on upstairs. Castiel had abruptly turned to look at Dean, "I need you." The angel lifted an arm, resting in on Deans shoulder, then they were both gone with a flutter of wings.

A shaky hand ran through the hunters hair, placing his hat back down, bouncing his legs to distract himself. He couldn't pick up a book, he was afraid he might rip the pages, seeing how unsteady his hands were. Goddamn, he's never been so nervous. It felt like forever had passed but they were no closer to finishing this. Bobby could hear his blood rushing in his ears, body tense and incapable of sitting still. 

"What do you think that's all about." Sam said slowly, and although the younger hunter didn't really show it, he was just as concerned for Crowley as Bobby was, maybe not as much, but still. Bobby shook his head. He wasn't the only one who saw the blood. Sam huffed out a breath of air, watching Bobby carefully. "He's going to be alright, you know." He said after a long moment. Bobby glanced up at him, and thought about those month ago when he told the boys about his and Crowley's relationship, and how Sam was the only one who seemed accepting and understanding of it. And here they were again, same room, same people, and Sam didn't miss a beat.

"I hope so." Bobby answered, hating how weak the response was but Sam never commented about it. Bobby could keep his head better than most, but when it came to the people he cared about, he couldn't help but lose it a little. Sam understood and didn't call him out on it, instead he merely nodded, and that was more than enough for now.

Time seemed to pass painfully slow, minutes seemed to tick by and hours and hours went on for days. Bobby had no idea how long he had been sitting there, the screams having cut off suddenly an hour back. He could feel perspiration forming on his forehead, using his sleeve to wipe it off as best as he could. 

Sam had tried to keep the hunter's attention on something other than what was going on over head, but it was hard, for the both of them. Bobby for obvious reason, and Sam just because he cared so damn much.

"Bobby, Sam." The two looked over at the angel, Dean wasn't with him, and Bobby assumed that he was still upstairs somewhere. The angel looked over at the older hunter, a flash of sympathy passed over his features, causing the hunters heart to speed up. "Bobby, I regret to inform you-"

Time seemed to slow to a halt, the rush of panic that flashed over the hunters face forced the angel to stop in what he was saying, pausing before the words could come out. The hesitance gave the hunter a chance to jump to his feet, almost bolting out of the room. Sam stepped forward, as if to stop him, but Castiel put up a hand to stop him. Bobby couldn't seem them as he ran up the stairs two at a time.

 _No, no, no, no, no.._ Bobby ran down the hall, _Crowley has to be okay, he has to be okay-_ stepping up to his bedroom door as Dean was quietly making an exit, almost crashing into each other. Dean was covered in blood, mostly smeared over his clothes, some blooded hand prints on his sleeves, and some smudges over his face. He looked like he went several rounds with a bull and that was just barely covering it; The hand prints on his sleeves that were smudged with the blood that caused them told the hunter that Dean was probably holding _someone_ down.

He was as white as a sheet compared to the smudges on his face, giving Bobby a weary look, before clearing his throat. He waved off anything Bobby was going to say, nodding towards the room.

His hand that was on the doorknob, slowly pushed it back open, softly creaking as Bobby's bedroom came into view.

Bobby glanced from Dean to inside of the room; it looked like a hurricane had struck.

The window was shattered, things were torn and thrown all over the place, blood was staining the sheets, while the paint on the walls was peeling. It was unnoticeable at first, but the paint was replenishing itself, shattered glass and torn clothes were being mended, while the blood coating the room was reciting back to its source.

Said source looked a mess. Bobby moved quickly inside, making it to the demons side in less than a moment, the door closing behind him and leaving them to privacy.

Crowley's hair was sticking out in all which ways, clothes torn and blooded, although the holes were mending and the blood was disappearing, almost moving from the cloth before vanishing. The demons face was flushed a bright red around his pudgy cheeks; He looked so tired, content, but tired; His breathing was heavy but it was progressively slowing down.

That was when Bobby noticed the creature in his arms. It took him a moment, but he finally noticed the dark towel in the demons grasp, but couldn't see inside of it. Crowley looked up at him, giving the hunter this lop-sided smile, reaching a weak arm out and grabbing the hunter by the sleeve, pulling him to sit on the bed.

"Want to look at him?"

"Him?" Bobby looked at the demon who merely nodded, handing over the ball of cloth. Bobby adjusted his hold, before moving aside the top fold, revealing a flushed round face.

"I believe he's more human, than demon." Crowley muttered sleepily, drowsily pronouncing each word slowly, "He looks like you."

"How can you tell?" Bobby chuckled softly, looking down at the child fondly.

"He's got a soul." Bobby looked over at Crowley, who was watching the child with soft eyes, "Just like his Daddy."

 _Daddy_ , Bobby wasn't sure if he could get used to that, but he was certainly going to try. He dropped his gaze fondly onto the little thing in his arms, he was so unimaginably _tiny_. The tension in his shoulders seemed to fade, the stress and the worry melting away, feeling his lovers hand move to rest on his knee. It made him wonder what Castiel was 'regretful' to inform him about.

"Yeah, but he's got his Mommy's round face."

"Don't make fun of his Mummy's face," Crowley nearly snorted, although glared somewhat at the title, a bit halfheartedly. "The little tyke's going to be one hell of a fighter when he's all grown up." He sighed, "Let's just hope I don't burn up on the roof after six months."

Bobby didn't respond and shot the demon a rather unamused look; instead he shifted the child in his arms, scooting onto the bed. Crowley moved slightly in order to make room for the two, but only enough as to not cause himself excess pain. Bobby noticed the small wince that flashed over his features, but bit back a comment, his eyes turning towards the baby once again.

The child was so tiny, slowly opening his eyes, blinking uncertainly, rapidly, before stopping, small eyes darting around curiously, more or less _rolling_ around, before stopping on Bobby. The hunter was somewhat surprised, when the child cooed, little happy squeaks passing its red little lips, eyes wide and dark.

He had Crowley's eyes for sure.

Dark and piercing, yet, there was something softer about them, something less accusing.

Bobby smiled at the tiny thing, it was _his_. Never in a million years would he have guessed that something like this would belong to him, never did he think he'd hold an infant that was apart of him. Years back, when Karen was still alive, he had thought about children, but he never once thought that he would be a good father. When she would bring it up, he'd get so terrified that he'd up like his father that he coward away whenever she brought it up. It frightened him, being responsible for something so delicate, and being able to either help it strive or tear it apart, and he didn't think anyone should have that kind of power over one person.

Roderick squirmed ever so slightly in Bobby's hands, and the hunter tightened his grip on the blanket. And for once, Bobby wasn't afraid of what he'll do, because when he looked at the small infant, he couldn't imagine having a hand in ruining such a precious little life. The hunter could feel the sides of his mouth pushing up, the sides of his eyes crinkling as he smiled when Roderick make a weak bubbling sound in the back of his throat, kicking his legs in his towel he squirmed, causing the old hunter to chuckle.

"You're gonna be one hell of a handful, now aren't you?" He mused.

A soft hum came from his side, looking over, he caught sight of his near sleeping demon, hair tuffed out in all directions and looking as though he'd hadn't slept in years. A calm expression drawn on his weary face, and Bobby noted how much more relaxed he looked, how content. Soft snores puffing out of the exhausted demons lips, and the hunter looked down at him with a soft expression, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss upon his forehead. He adjusted the way he sat, back pressed against the head board as he cradled the child in his arms. Roderick made some sounds that sounded almost protesting before his eyes fluttered shut and began to drift off as well.

Crowley shifted in his sleep until his arm draped over the hunters waist from where Bobby was sitting, wrapping them around him with his face pressing against the side of his lovers hip. He breathed in deeply, mumbling something that Bobby couldn't quite hear. After a moment he shifted downward, laying beside his lover over the covers, Crowley's eyes were barely opened, drooping and attempting to flutter shut as he shifted, leaning closer to the hunter until his head was resting on his lovers chest, right along side the baby.

Bobby watched as Crowley's eyes fluttered to the child, hand brushing over and wrapping a finger around the child wrist. Crowley looked so vulnerable like this, wearing his emotions on his sleeves and looked as if he fought to get this far, and in many ways, he has. Bobby had a hand on the child's back, holding Roderick in place while his other hand was wrapped around Crowley's shoulders, holding them both with care.

Crowley rubbed and buried his face against his lovers chest, nose briefly nuzzling until he found a spot that made him comfortable.

There was a number of things that Bobby wanted to say in that exact moment, and one of them specifically came in three's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a part in here where Castiel's all like "I regret to inform you-" And it's really just about how the room was destroyed, you feel me? Because Castiel does have his priorities straight, but I feel like he'd be "awe man, Bobby's gonna be hella mad when he sees what happened to his drapes, shit son." And a little panic never never hurt a story.
> 
> Also-- a little side note on the birth itself. I don't think Crowley gave birth to the little baby naturally, [because even though people are known to scream, they wouldn't be doing it as much as Crowley. Not to mention he doesn't have exactly a place for the baby to go, so yeah] So I imagined, it was more of Castiel removing the essence from Crowley, and seeing Angel and Demon dynamics, that would hurt like hell. And with a child involved? [Not to mention a Cambion.] So the blooded up room might have come from Crowley putting himself in harms way to prevent his [half-demon] baby from getting hurt or burned from the angel [essence wise] which therefore probably tore him up real bad.


	9. Three Years Later

"He started it!"

"Nuh uh!"

Roderick pouted, looking up at Bobby with pleading eyes. Dean was covered head to toe in honey and powdered sugar, and Roderick wasn't in any better shape. Bobby had ran downstairs at the sound of a crash, like glass shattering, only to find his three-year old, and a man-made three-year old in the middle of some food fight; the kitchen was covered, ruminates of food Bobby didn't even know the name of was littering the floor and walls, and there was no _telling_ what was on his counter.

Bobby sighed, running his rough hands over his weary face. "Both of you, clean this up," He gestured to the mass; Dean looked ready to whine, Roderick feet behind him. Bobby turned to leave, "You have an hour!" The two boys looked at each other with a surge of panic in their eyes before scrambling to get things done.

Roderick, in the passed three years, had grown like a sprout, although he was still a tiny little tyke, he was a lot brighter than most his age. A lot of that had to do with Crowley, who spent hours reading to him at night, telling him stories and teaching him certain spells and warding sigils, incantations and how to make hex bags. Bobby, on the other hand, had spent time with simpler things, like arts and crafts; Which Roderick had enjoyed from the start. Bobby assisted Crowley who taught him how to count and teaching him the alphabet, even how to read and write. Although that was more up Crowley's ally.

Roderick had learned how to walk and talk after his first year, which was just barely normal, maybe a little quick, but normal. Normal was definitely good. Crowley said that he was aging like a normal human, and not like a full-blown demon Cambion would, which was something special.

The child was looking more and more like Crowley every day, with his eyes, and his dark hair, and his rounded face; He was clever too. A quick thinker and smart with his words, although there was nothing but utter innocence with said words. He had more of Bobby's personality than anything else, and he definitely got his freckles from him; and his cheeky grin. Crowley doesn't think that Roderick looks anything like him, but Bobby knows that's not entirely true-- if anything, he looks more like Crowley, but that was his personal perception.

Bobby walked into his study, where he found Castiel, leaning to get a look into what had happened in the kitchen. A curious look flashed over his expressive eyes, and Bobby just pointed behind him, as if to signal it was safe to go in. Castiel merely nodded, quickly stepping out of the hunters way and making swift steps towards his hunter.

Yeah, _his_ hunter.

"Hello, darling."

Bobby turned on his heel, seeing the demon a few feet away, wearing a fine-pressed suit, and looking as smug as ever. The hunter rolled his eyes at him, responding with a grunt rather than an actual response, and received a peck on the cheek in response.

"Missed you too," Crowley teased, "Brought something for you."

Bobby raised a brow, "Yeah?"

The demon gave a large, almost uncharacteristic smile, before raising a hand to snap his fingers. Bobby looked over a moment, watching as Crowley stepped back a little to give the hunter some room. Bobby turned over a little and his eyes landed on something out-of-place resting on his desk. Bobby looked over at the demon a moment, before turning his attention back to whatever was sitting there. Carefully, he reached to grab it, snatching it up in his hands. It was a mid-sized wrapped box-shaped thing, strung up and down, feeling a good weight to it.

"Well? Don't just look at." Crowley commented, smirking at the hunter before shoving his hands inside of his trench pockets.

Hesitantly, he pulled the string from it's resting place, watching as the velvet silk fell to the ground almost gracefully in a liquid movement. Grabbing at the cover, he pulled it open.

One glance and Bobby's head snapped up, his eyebrows shot up in surprise and awe. He opened his mouth a moment, trying to find his words as they were escaping him, "Where did you..-how..-?"

Crowley tilted his head up smugly, smirking almost mockingly in thought, "I knew this gal," He started, "who knew somebody who knew someone else, willing to make a deal-" He looked pointedly at the gift, "and was in possession of.. well, _that_."

"And they just let you take it?"

"Well," Crowley cocked his head slightly, "It was either that silly old thing or their soul, which would you have picked?"

Bobby broke out into a smile, "C'mere ya' idjit." Bobby moved forward and scooped the shorter demon into his arms, who let out an undignified surprised squeak.

"Now now, try not to wrinkle the suit, it's Armani." Crowley retorted, but didn't hesitate to wrap his own arms around the hunter. Bobby didn't respond, and instead pressed his lips against the demons, a silent thank you. Crowley happily contributed and responded, snaking his hands to wrap into the hunters dark hair.

"Daddy!" The two heard the loud happy screech as they broke apart, Crowley being attacked by a 2 foot monster covered in honey and sugar.

"Hello kiddo," Crowley smiled until he saw what state Roderick was in, lifting an eyebrow before reaching down and picking up the sticky child. "Dean, what have you done to my kid?"

" _He started it!_ " Came the defensive shout from the other room, Bobby chuckled, while Roderick tried to grab at Crowley again, squirming in his arms so he could wrap around his daddy. The demon was able to avoid the grasp, holding the child slightly further way.

"When's the last time you bathed, sweet heart?" Crowley smirked at the child who stopped kicking his little legs.

Roderick looked at his daddy with confused eyes before looking, almost shamefully, at his feet. Crowley made an amused, 'uh huh' noise, before setting the child to the ground. "That's what I thought," Crossing his arms with a near dramatic sigh, "Well, I can't have you running around like a pastry, now can I?"

The child looked up at him, this bashful smile on his face, shaking his head vigorously. Crowley turned on his heels, "Well come on now, darling, we don't have all day." Came the bemused sigh; Roderick giggled at the false bad-sportsmanship before chasing behind the demon king, rushing up the stairs past him.

Bobby knew that Crowley could have easily snapped away the mess, and although Crowley would deny it to all of hell's ends, Bobby also knew that Crowley enjoyed these small hours that he got to bond with his child; Doing things rather manually than automatically. And, in some strange way, it was sweet.

A crash sounded off in the kitchen, followed by a ' _Damn it Cas!' - 'My apologies Dean-_ ' and Bobby had to strain to not roll his eyes.

After about half-and-hour, the kitchen was half way decent, and Bobby had been able to place most of his books back on his shelf, and although he wanted it all to be in alphabetical order, he found no reason to waste his time on something that was eventually gonna be a mess anyhow. Sam was in the kitchen, having already started on dinner, working around the angel and his brother in the process.

Dean had told Cas, from the sound of the arguing from before, not to make the mess vanish, and to do things ' _the old fashioned way_ '. Bobby had already imagined the look of utter confusion on the angels face, but Cas never said a word, and just obeyed. The question was, however, more on the fact as to _why_ Dean wanted to clean that way in the first place. He hates cleaning.

The older hunter could practically hear Sam saying something about ' _it's Deans way of trying to make time for someone_ ' and that it's really ' _an activity of endearment._ ' If that was the case, Bobby didn't even want to know what dates with Dean would even _consist_ of having.

A high-pitched scream reverberated from upstairs, causing both of the hunters eyebrows to jump to his hairline. Sam and Dean were too busy to have heard it, and Cas was... being Cas, and not paying a lick of attention to anything but the conflict at hand. Bobby bolted up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, and bee lining down the hallway, where another high-pitched scream broke loose.

It sounded like it was coming from his bedroom.

Bobby stopped running, his feet slowing down, before he heard a batch of giggles and smaller lighter screams come from his room. The elder hunter quietly made his way to the door, opening it just a tad before peaking inside. What he saw was a bit of a surprise.

Crowley was on his knees by the side of the bed, his jacket having been tossed somewhere with his black sleeves rolled up, a screaming three-year old pinned to the bed. Said, screaming three-year old had his shirt pulled up slightly while raspberries were being blown into his belly, giggling and screaming this high-pitched joyous scream. Crowley let out a few laughs, making a show of breathing in deeply before blowing out all the air onto the child's belly. Roderick squirmed, laughing brightly and hard his face turned a light shade of red around the cheeks. "Daddy! S-Stop 'et!" The boy screeched through a fit of giggles.

"Well you shouldn't have-" Crowley's hands moved from the child's arms and down to the boys ticklish sides, making the three-year old laugh a bit louder, "- _Splashed me!_ " He tickled the child's sides, who in response, started kicking his legs, trying desperately to breath between laughs. Crowley stopped, allowing him to catch his breath. Roderick was still giggling as he made to sit up better on the bed.

"Daddy," Roderick giggled, his voice wavering pleasantly, "You're silly!" With the say of these slurred words, a pale chubby hand poked the demon kings nose, causing the demon to go cross-eyed a moment in order to follow the movement, a cheeky smile on his face.

"No, _you're_ silly!" Crowley playfully exclaimed, face scrunching up slightly in amusement as he poked his child's belly, who hiccuped in laughter.

Bobby stood staring into the doorway nearly dumbstruck, a pleasantly surprised smile etching it's way onto his face fondly. Opening the door a little bit wider, the hunter stepped in, immediately catching the young child's attention. "Papa!" The three-year old shouted happily, opening his small arms wide. Crowley had a slight flush around his cheeks, and Bobby wasn't sure if that was from the 'excitement' that went on, or from embarrassment of being caught. Either way, the hunter leaned down and planted a chaste kiss on the demons cheeks, quickly standing before the demon could respond, scooping the small child into his hands.

"You clean?" Bobby asked, although he already knew the answer.

"Uh huh! Daddy gave me a bath," The child smiled pleasantly, "I'm a clean Cam-balloon!"

Bobby couldn't help but snort, not bothering to correct him, placing the child on his hip, "You're gettin' heavy." Bobby teased, to which the child shook his head.

"Am not!"

"Yes you are, pudgy." Crowley snatched the child from Bobby's arms, the child slid down his daddy's arms and clung to the demons side, "No matter, nothing some veggies couldn't fix." Roderick made a face caused the two adults to chuckle.

"Food!" the voice flowed up the stairs, it sounded like Sam. The three of them walked down casually, stepping foot into the semi-clean kitchen. Bobby didn't even bother, before setting the child into a chair, placing a few bigger books down on the seat to boost the child's height.

Minutes flew past while plates were being set and food was being served, snarky remarks, and rude comments aside, the meal went pretty well. Sam was one hell of a cook, regardless of what others think, Crowley wasn't half bad, but Sam always had something special when it came down to culinary.

Everything was okay at first, before Sam and Dean got caught in a middle of an argument about who was the better bands, AC/DC or Van Halen, then on what Western Movies were greater, before switching to which actor would most likely get maimed. Sam had a good run, but Dean always knew how to drop the hat. The argument moved from dinner to the living room, while they let the three-year old pick the film. Dean taking a seat on the far end of the couch, while Sam got the popcorn. Bobby sat behind his desk while Crowley sat on the floor, helping Roderick read the titles.

"-was an amazing movie." Dean countered, watching as Castiel settled beside him.

Sam snorted, "The Rocky Horror Picture Show didn't make any sense!"

"Brokeback Mountain didn't make any goddamn sense!"

"What are you talking about, asshat? It was a good movie!"

"So was Rocky Horror!"

"Girls, girls, you're both pretty, now shut up!" Crowley snapped, turning his head towards the hunters a moment before setting down the case of the film he was holding. "Bloody hell, you two could just go on for hours about nothing!"

"No yelling daddy," Roderick staged-whispered, really trying to be quiet but everyone in the room heard him. "Uncle Sammy and Deany are just _playing_." He attempted to wink but ended up blinking, as if he just shared some juicy secret and Crowley wanted to know more than ever who taught him to do that.

"You mean they're acting like morons." He stage-whispered back, smirking when Dean shot him a glare.

"Nobody asked for your input Crowley!"

"All of you idjits, just shut up!" Bobby snapped, "We're gonna watch whatever goddamn movie Ricky picks, and we're gonna be quiet about it. Now, quite fightin'! Given' me a head ache."

Dean rolled his eyes but nodded, while Sam paused before uttering a small _sorry_ , Crowley winked at Bobby before turning his attention to Roderick who was pointing at a rather colorful DVD cover. It didn't take long for them to start up again once Roderick picked out ' _Star Trek: The Final Frontier_ ' fighting over who was the better actor, William Shatner or Leonard Nimoy. And in that moment, Bobby swears everyone was an idjit and he was the only normal one of the bunch, and it didn't help when Crowley put in Deforest Kelley, while Castiel had questioned the plot of the film. It felt like Dean had to pause the movie every few moments to get the angel caught up on who was who and what was going on.

There is no subtle way to tell someone they don't belong in one place from another, and it's never easy explaining to someone that they're wrong. No, they more often than not become offended, and then what is there to do? It's hard enough as it is trying to explain yourself, and trying to get them to understand; but there are times, in everyone's life, where they must meet someone ' _More stubborn than I_.'

And although the boys were both bull headed, and an angel and a demon would never in a million years be caught dead sharing popcorn and a movie, which didn't really stop them from being hip to hip with three hunters and a half-breed; Bobby still couldn't find room to complain. It was a crazy, strange little Brady bunch, but it was his, and his alone. Looking from face to face, and one silly argument to the next, Bobby couldn't remember ever being happier.

_End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First published 11-08-13. I've gotten better in my writing since then, and hopefully my tampering was enough.
> 
> I rather like this version, although I really added onto what was already there and got rid of bits and pieces.
> 
> That's the end, and thank you for reading! I plan on doing a mini series with Bobby and Crowley attempting to raise Roderick, going through their own personal struggles with taking care of a kid and looking after hell/hunters, and just going through the phases. Most likely to be a bundle of one-shots, but I haven't figured it out yet.
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed. ^^


End file.
